


Reflection

by Mirinda



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Abduction, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bodily Fluids, Bondage and Discipline, Captivity, Caring Thranduil, Cunnilingus, Dark, Dark Romance, Dark and Dangerous Thranduil, Drama & Romance, Elf/Faerie Sex, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fingerfucking, Gang Rape, Id Fic, Loss of Virginity, Masturbation, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protectiveness, Rape/Non-con Elements, Requited Love, Sexual Coercion, Sexual Violence, Smut, Thranduil Kink, Torture, Trauma, Violence, not a sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-03-30 03:43:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 48
Words: 78,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3921661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirinda/pseuds/Mirinda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The growing threat in the Mirkwood Forest has the Woodland elves on high alert. While on patrol, the King's guard have brought many trespassers before him but Thranduil is surprised when his soldiers discover a weakened faerie being attacked by a human male in his lands</p><p>He finds himself enchanted by this creature, but faeries can be coy and cunning and they are different from elves, different from any creature Thranduil has ever known.  Amelina possesses whimsical, childlike qualities that stand in stark contrast to the reserved, stoic demeanor of the militant Mirkwood elves and Thranduil finds himself strangely attracted to her. </p><p>Faerie's are rare and are considered a prized possession among all of the races. Amelina is worth more than precious gems or gold. This is the harsh reality of her situation and she know this well, too well. She has no more reason to trust the ElvenKing then he has to trust her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

                                                      _Come away, O human child: To the waters and the wild with a fairy, hand in hand,_

_For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand_

_-William Butler Yeats_

 

Thranduil sits impassive on his throne, his face still, his bearing regal as the two trespassers are brought before him. The male is a bedraggled human, dirty and unshaven. Repulsive, Thranduil thinks to himself. The female, while decidedly not human, is certainly not of elven descent. She has wriggled her body sideways and is facing the human. Thranduil has yet to get a thorough look at her.

She is clearly unhappy about being bound and struggles against the elven guard who is attempting to be polite but firm with her restraints. She does not seem to realize she has been brought before the King. Her eyes and her entire body are trained solely upon the man.

“Witch!” the man shouts glaring at her. For all of his vehemence, he looks at her as if he is a little spooked.

“Filth!” she yells back, bucking to try and reach him.

“Farn!” Thranduil’s authoritative command cuts through the air and suddenly, the female shifts focus. Her eyes fall upon the King as if she has just realized there is someone in the room other than the man she has given her exclusive attention too.

She straightens, taking in the Elf Lord towering above her. Her head cocks slightly as her eyes travel over him in awe. She falls silent and still. Her pink lips part slightly as she draws in a long, but slight breath. For a moment, the human she has been railing against is forgotten. Her mesmerized gaze works its way down Thranduil’s tall stature and gilded robes before gliding back up again. She meets his icy cold stare and gawks unabashedly.

Thranduil too is enthralled, although his face betrays nothing of the rush of excitement that fills him when their eyes meet. Her irises are a deep violet. A fae, he thinks as his heart skips a beat. Her tousled light, copper hair is bound in a loose knot at the back of her head. Dozens of escaped tendrils frame her face and trail down her shoulders.

She wears a loose, billowy, white blouse with a scooped neckline that exposes her collar bones and the rounded tops of her breasts. It is ripped and has slipped off one of her tanned shoulders. Thranduil finds himself wondering if she walks uncovered in the sun. The fae are known to take part in strange rituals.

A laced, mauve vest catches just under her bosom and accentuates her tiny waistline. Her skirt is made of jagged layers of filmy, pale pink material that end just above her knees. She wears no shoes and Thranduil forces himself to look away from her mud caked, dainty feet that he finds particularly alluring.

Her cheek displays a deepening bluish bruise that is inflamed and red around the edges, it is new. Despite her enchantment with him, Thranduil can see the traces of fear and exhaustion in her purple, glowing, eyes. An unaccustomed feeling of protectiveness surges in his chest as he assesses the turmoil beneath her stare.

“She is a demon My Lord!” the man shouts clamoring for the King’s attention. He draws down the collar of his shirt to expose bleeding claw marks across his chest.

Her focus swiftly rivets back to the man, “You attacked me!” she spits.

Thranduil notices now that she has red marks across her neck and wrists. She struggles hard again against her guard, lunging at the human, her eyes shooting daggers at him.

“I was simply offering you my aid!” the man insists incredulously.

“By ripping my clothes off?” she spews back at him.

The man rolls his eyes, feigning ignorance and exasperation.

“What is your name,” Thranduil asks, his tone indifferent as he addresses the shaken faerie standing before him.

“Amelina,” she answers, offering nothing more than this guarded, clipped response.

“Why were you riding in my forest?” Thranduil asks her directly, fixing his eyes upon her and raising his thick bows.

“I was searching for my brother.” Her reply is short and her voice is filled with grief. Thranduil can tell she is struggling to keep her composure.

“And did you find him?”

“Yes.” Thranduil watches as her eyes glimmer in wetness and he can sense the tears that she is holding back. He watches her thoughtfully for a moment, allowing her the time she needs to recover herself.

“And?” he asks in a soft, soothing voice.

“He is gone,” she says, looking down. “I brought him to the Enchanted River. I thought maybe it would bring him back….,” her voice is now a whisper and Thranduil pushes down an overwhelming urge to put his arms around her and comfort her. His silent musings are cut short by the voice of the human.

“Sorcery! She is a witch! Look what she did to me!” he exclaims, once again exposing the claw marks on his chest.

When the man turns to the ElvenKing, Amelina presses her back into her captor and lifts both of her legs, drop kicking him. Doubling over in pain, the man falls to his knees, clutching his stomach.

“Shall I take off my clothing and show him what you did to me?” she hisses at the groaning man on the floor in front of her. She flails against her elven guard, her eyes wild and filled with hatred as she glowers at the man still gasping for air in front of her.

“Take him to the prison,” Thranduil orders, turning away from the man’s protests as the guards drag the him from the room. The thought of her ripping her clothes off and exposing her battle wounds has caused him a momentary embarrassment and he finds himself needing to look away to quell an ancient desire that is brewing deep beneath his impeccable veneer. When he is sure he has tempered the heat rising within him, he turns again to the petite faerie standing before him.

He is surprised to see her looking hungrily upon the fruit bowl sitting on the table to their right. He notices now the bluish cast under her eyes and the slight slump of her shoulders. Walking over to the bowl, Thranduil takes a red, shiny apple, grasping it lightly in his long, ringed fingers. He closes the distance between him and the fae, noticing the look of desperation that crosses her face as she intently fixates upon the fruit.

He knows, if it were not for the food he is bringing to her, she would shrink away from him, but she stands her ground and swallows hard, looking up at him with tired eyelids. He nods to his guard to free her and hands her the apple, watching as she quickly devours it, eating even the seeds and the core. When she goes to put the stem in her mouth, he stops her and motions her to the bowl, offering her access to anything she desires from the brightly colored arrangement of fruits.

It has been many centuries since he has seen a faerie and he searches his memory, knowing that the fae have peculiar tastes. Bread, he knows has always been used to ward off the faeries, they find it particularly distasteful. Pouring her a goblet of wine, he hands it too her, watching in amusement as she gobbles down handfuls of strawberries and polishes off a ripe, green pear. He finds he cannot look away when she sucks the juice off her fingertips despite his need to dampen the flames she is once again igniting inside him.

Thranduil is fascinated at how she has become completely absorbed in the food, just as she had been completely absorbed with the human when she was brought before him. When she has finished eating, her attention returns to her host, she looks at him warily.

“Did he harm you?” Thranduil asks, with a with a slight edge in his voice.

“Not much,” she replies as he scrutinizes her. Although the human had tried to ravish her, he had not finished his task, thanks to her resistance and to his guards who came upon them before the man could overtake her completely.

“Good,” Thranduil replies appeased. “Please, be my guest. My servants will show you to a room.”

Amelina nods obligingly. Thranduil can see she is unsure and apprehensive.

“You will be safe here, come to me if there is anything you require,” he says politely, handing her another apple.

“This way My Lady,” the servant says. Thranduil watches as she turns and wearily follows the servant through the door of his throne room, taking a bite of the apple on her way out. Strange strings tug at his heart as she leaves and he pauses for a moment of reflection. Having possession of a faerie is tantalizing in of itself, but having possession of this particular faerie might be most fruitful, he thinks with a smirk, looking at the half empty bowl on his table. She is quite a catch.


	2. Chapter 2

_And though you should live in a palace of gold, or sleep in a dried up ditch_  
_You could never be as poor as the fairies are, and never as rich._  
_~Rose Fyleman_

Thranduil takes report from the servant and guard on watch over Amelina as his first order of business in the morning. His meditations during the night were interrupted often by visions of her, but he is certain this was not a result of faerie magick. She is weakened and traumatized far too much then to be spending her first night in the safety of his halls casting charms.

Still, she is already taking up too much of his time and proving to be too much of a distraction. He will need to trade or sell her soon. The possibilities are lucrative.

“Bring her to dine with me,” Thranduil orders. The servant bows his head.

“Yes My Lord.”

Thranduil waits for her in the dining hall as the kitchen attendants bring in plates of food, arranging them on the long table. When she enters, he pulls out a chair for her next to his place setting at the head of the table. Once again, he feels a strange tugging sensation in his heart.

“Good morning Amelina, how did you rest?” he inquires, noting the swelling on her bruised cheek. It looks far worse this morning than it did when they parted company the night before and this gives rise to a rage inside of him.

“Fine,” she answers, her eyes darting around the room, examining every escape route before settling on the bouquet of flowers sitting at their table.

“Please, eat.” Thranduil motions to the spread on the table as he takes his seat. He watches curiously, stifling a chuckle, as she picks two flowers from the vase and begins chewing on the petals of a large daisy.

Her eyes look brighter this morning and her shoulders a bit straighter. She has bathed and she tucks her clean, small feet under her chair, her toes barely reach the floor. Loose, tousled hair cascades over her shoulders and her blouse has been stitched. She still has red bracelets on both of her wrists and several finger streaks marring her sun kissed neck.

“Tell me, how it is you came be to be here? These lands are not safe for the fae and we have not seen your kind roaming free here for centuries.”

“We were fleeing our home beyond the mountains. It is on fire, everything is burning.” Amelina’s eyes take on a haunted purple hue as she speaks.

“How many of you were there?”

“Just us, my brother and I. We have lived there since we escaped.”

“Escaped?”

“Yes.” She whispers, looking down and wringing her delicate hands.

“Where did you escape from?”

“I don't really remember, it was a very long time ago. We were with a man, we lived in a cage.”

Thranduil nods at her. It was a cruel practice, to keep captive faeries caged, but their unpredictable, intense nature proved too much for many.

“What happened to your brother?” Thranduil regrets asking the question immediately. The look in her violet eyes is devastating.

“It was Orc’s” she says quietly. “We killed many of them but we were separated. When I found him, he had been hit by a poison arrow.”

“I am sorry,” Thranduil says with a hint of compassion in his voice.

“My master used to tell us of the Enchanted River. He wanted to come here when he grew old to bathe in the water so he could live forever.”

“Humans often make that mistake. They attribute the immortality of elves to fountains of youth and other such faerie tales.”

Amelina’s eyes shoot up and narrow at the King. “We do not have tails!” she snaps at him angrily. This time, Thranduil cannot help but chuckle.

Her eyes blaze and she jumps from her seat. She moves like lightning, throwing everything she can get her hands on from the table, breaking the stoneware and toppling the vase of flowers to the floor. Her quickness startles Thranduil momentarily, but he recovers himself with haste.

She is fast, but she is no match for the legendary warrior and Thranduil catches her as she is flittering toward the door. He locks her arms beneath his at her sides and holds her firmly against his chest. She has been a free faerie for some time, according to her story. She will need to be retrained, assuming her former master had tamed her. 

“Easy pet,” Thranduil says in a low voice. Before he can issue any more admonishments, she turns her head up to him. Her violet eyes glisten with unshed tears.

“But your river is magick, it called to me from the shore. I have to go there to be with my brother. You have to let me go.”

Thranduil takes in a deep breath. “No, little one. The river is cursed, there is nothing to be found there but madness and despair.”

She stares up at him blinking. The only remnants of her temper tantrum are the heavy breaths she is taking and the slight flare of her nostrils with each one. He can see the heartbreak in her eyes as the hope of being reunited with her brother begins to fade. She is in a fragile state and although he will have to get her under control, he must be careful not to break her.

Holding her this close to him causes Thranduil some distress. Her scent is overwhelmingly floral and her skin is as soft as a velvet rose petal. He releases her and takes a step back. Glancing around the room at the shattered remains of breakfast, he gives her a stern look.

“I have several matters to attend to. Clean up your mess and I will send a healer to attend to your wounds.” His voice is not unkindly, but he makes sure his displeasure with her is known.

He watches her turn to survey the wreck she has made and she sighs deeply, her shoulders slumping. He is pleasantly surprised when she bends down and begins scooping up the pieces of fruit in her skirt.

Giving orders to the guards and servants to keep a close eye on her, he calls for the human who had bruised her face to be brought to his throne room. He needs to make a decision as to what will be done with him.

***

Thranduil bends for his servant to place the crown of rowan branches and berries on his head and he ascends the steps leading to his throne. He looks down from his intimidating position as the human is brought into the room.

“The fae is wounded, she is marked, what have you to say for yourself?”

“My Lord, she was throwing herself into the river! I rescued her!”

“Did you try to force yourself on her?” Thranduil's tone turns dark and dangerous.

“No, but I intended to keep her. I saved her, she is mine!”

“You found her on my land while you were trespassing, she does not belong to you.”

“If it were not for me, she would be floating in your river of doom!”

“And yet, she is not. She is here in my palace, as my guest.”

“Guest?” the human scoffs and laughs ruefully.

“Tell me My Lord, do you not intend to keep her for yourself? And just what do you plan on doing with her when you are alone, if you have not done it to her already?”

“Enough! You are banished from these lands. If you are found here again, you will rot in my prison until your death finds you. Be gone!”

It is early, but when the guards drag the man away, Thranduil pours himself a long draw of Dorwinion wine. The human’s words have come too close to the truth.

After hearing Amelina talk of the river calling her, he has no doubt the man kept her from casting herself into the black water. For that reason only, Thranduil has spared his life. But there is no doubt the human tried to molest her and intended to capture her.

A deep sense of darkness fills him. Thranduil wonders to himself if his own intentions are not the same as that of the human for whom he feels a primal need to unleash his wrath upon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize to my readers because I have switched tenses in this chapter and I understand how annoying that is. I did it in Reclamation, although much later, as well. There are pros and cons to both tenses that I am really struggling with. I will go back and adjust the first two chapters as soon as I can but before I do, if anyone cares to make any observations about which tense they prefer I would be very interested.

                          “ _Desire is not always lessened by disgust. Nor can it be bestowed, like a favor, to those most deserving of it._

 _And as my words bind my magic, so you can know the truth. If she doesn't desire his kiss, she won’t be free.”_  
_― Cassandra Clare_

Sighing in relief, Fredrick saw a clearing in the forest ahead. The dark forest of Mirkwood gave him a creepy feeling and he was anxious to get out, having spent the better part of the morning traversing through the mazes of blackened trees. Just as he reached the boundary, a dark, hooded figure approached him and a chill caused the hair of his arms to stand on end. Tiny bumps prickled his skin.

“I had her but those damn woodland sprites stole her from me. She is being held by the King.”

“You were given a simple task. You failed me. You failed Him.”

“It’s not my fault! The elves were everywhere, I was accosted by an entire company when I caught her! They must have known about her.”

“You were to bring me the Princess, not excuses,” the hooded creature growled as another figure shadowed beneath a cape silently positioned himself behind the man. Before Fredrick could say another word, a long, steel blade pierced through him. He stared for a moment at the sharp tip of the sword protruding from his stomach, dripping in blood.

The mysterious being yanked the blade back out the same way he had thrust it in. Fredrick fell to the ground clutching his wound, a look of astonishment on his face. The two cloaked silhouettes retreated into the woods as Fredrick’s gaze fixed in a death stare against the bright blue sky.

***

“She is up there My Lord.”

The healer Thranduil appointed to care for Amelina’s injuries stood in the hallway, pointing up to the high celling of the palace cave. The faerie sat on a beam, staring down at them from a death defying height.

“How did she get up there?” Thranduil asked incredulously.

“She flew.”

“Faeries do not fly, that is an old myth.”

“This one does My Lord.”

“Does she have wings?”

“I did not see wings My Lord.”

Thranduil’s icy blue eyes met the deep violet eyes staring down at him.

“I have treated all of the wounds I can see My Lord, she has others beneath her clothing. She does not wish for me to tend to those,” the servant said, bowing his head.

“Very well, that will be all for now,” Thranduil ordered, dismissing the servant.

“Amelina, come down,” the order was given softly but firmly.

Thranduil had hoped she would use her talents to fly down so that he could see what the healer had seen, but Amelina scaled down the wall, much as an elf would do, descending it deftly. Her face was bereft, almost sad as she stared at the floor in front of him. Thranduil took a step forward, and lifted her chin.

“Are you okay?”

Amelina stared up at him and her eyes quickly focused on his crown. She reached out over his head and lightly touched one of the branches.

“My Mother had one of these,” she said wistfully. Thranduil studied her as a myriad of emotions crossed over her face. Hiding what she was feeling was not one of her strengths and he found this fact about her especially intriguing.

“Your Mother had a crown?”

“Yes, but hers had flowers and jewels.”

Thranduil looked at her questioningly. “Who was your Mother?”

“I don’t remember, I just still can see her sometimes.”

Nodding, Thranduil motioned for Amelina to follow him. When they reached his personal chambers, he guided her into the low ceilinged room.

“Take your clothes off Amelina.”

She froze and took several steps backwards, her eyes flashed with fear. Her arms instinctively crossed over her body.

Thranduil followed her step for step until her back was pressed against the wall. Stepping forward, he trapped her and pulled her arms down to her sides.

“Easy pet, I mean only to attend to your wounds.”

“I’m okay,” Amelina muttered, as a red flush crept up her neck and over her cheeks.

“I need to see that you are okay,” Thranduil said in a soothing tone as he placed his hands on her shoulders, pulling her blouse down, exposing her breasts.

“Shhhhh, it is alright,” he whispered when she whimpered in protest.

He took in a sharp breath when he looked down at her. One breast was almost completely black and blue, the other bore the marks of many fingertip bruises. The human was lucky he had been set free before the extent of her injuries were known. Thranduil wished the man were still in his dungeon so he could mete out a punishment more severe for this outrage.

Meeting her eyes once again, Thranduil wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb before unlacing the stays on her vest and letting it fall to the floor. He had seen her flinch when she turned her body a couple of times. As he had suspected, her ribcage was badly bruised. Chances were good he would find one or more fractures there.

Tiny sobs escaped from her as he pulled her skirt and undergarment down. Thranduil cursed under his breath when he saw the bruising on her thighs. Lifting her up, he placed her on his bed and began to work on her. Although he was not the healer Elrond was, he had been around for many ages and was as skilled as most of those who had dedicated their lives to the healing arts.

He knew before he started, this would be no easy task for him. His attraction to her was undeniable. Now that he had her unclothed in his bed, it was only her extensive injuries and her mortification at being naked in front of him that was keeping him in check. As he placed his hand on her breast, her nipple tightened beneath his touch and she gasped.

Thranduil closed his eyes. Even with the bruises, looking at her slight, perfect body caused him physical pain. She was beautiful and she evoked feelings inside of him that had long ago been forgotten. After a few moments, Thranduil felt her body begin to relax as she found relief beneath his administration's.

She must have been in considerable pain, two of her ribs were broken. As his hands glossed over her bruised thighs, her hips jerked upward to him and her body shuddered. He lifted her up against his chest, crooning softly into her ear.

“Did he rape you?” he asked as his fingers drifted over her soft seam searching for trauma. She moaned at his touch before answering.

“Almost,” she said so quietly, he was not sure if it was her voice he had heard or her thoughts. Not certain if she was telling the truth, he let his fingers slide into her moistness. Her tender flesh was swollen but his discerning fingers sensed immediately that this was from his touch and not from abuse by her attacker. He reluctantly withdrew, with great effort.

She nuzzled her face in his neck and began crying hard as he pulled his hand from her and wrapped her in a blanket from his bed. “Lina, “ he crooned in a raspy voice as he rocked her.

“Do not cry angel, you are going to be okay.”

Although his thoughts had been preoccupied with all of the potential gains he could barter from such a rare treasure as a female faerie, a far more powerful thought had been at work in his mind since the moment he had laid his eyes upon her. As her breathing became deep and even and she fell asleep in his arms, he embraced her tightly, taking in her rich floral scent. He kissed her forehead reverently and whispered a single word.

“Mine.”


	4. Chapter 4

_Go not to the Elves for counsel, for they will say both no and yes._

_J. R. R. Tolkien_

 

Lucient reached the Captain of the Guard on patrol just south of the King's Halls. She turned her brown eyed gaze to him with a look of surprise. Tauriel had not expected to see the gate sentry here in the forest. Feeling Legolas approach behind her, she straightened in acknowledgement but did not turn. Legolas felt a warm sensation in his stomach. He loved the way she always knew when he was near her.

“My Lord Legolas, Orcs! There are over a hundred of them, they are nearly upon the palace!” Lucient said, a note of panic in his voice.

A worried look crossed the face of the Prince. This was an unusual development. The Orc’s never ventured this deep into the forest, they must be moving fast to have gotten so near the caves undetected.

Keeping her feet firmly planted, Tauriel turned her head to look at him. Legolas nodded to her and they began to move swiftly, her company following the pair as they raced to defend the palace.

***

With a lightning fast flick of his wrist, Legolas took down the first invader with his arrow just as the grey, hairless creature reached the top of the wall. He sensed a formidable presence at his back and knew at once that his Father had arrived to lead the soldiers in warding off their attackers. In one fluid motion after another, Legolas let his arrows fly as he listened to the sound of the King’s blade slicing through air and Orc flesh with expert precision.

“They are fleeing down the river, My Lord, should we take them?” Tauriel’s voice carried both urgency and vehemence. It was clear she wanted to give chase.

Both Legolas and Thranduil turned to her. Legolas’ first instinct was to give the command, but he deferred, remembering his Father was there, and he looked to the King. Thranduil nodded and the company of elves scaled the walls of the gate and began moving with ninja like stealth over the rocks at the side of the rapids with Legolas in command.

“Double the guards at the borders!” Thranduil ordered as the last remaining Orc fell beneath his sword. Feren nodded.

“Yes My Lord.” Whistling for his horse, Feren mounted and urged his beast into a full run to carry out his King’s wishes.

***

Amelina awoke as Thranduil entered his chambers still clad in battle regalia. She blinked and stared openly at him, clutching the bed sheet over her chest. Her luminescent purple eyes sparkled with both fear and wonderment as she pulled herself from her slumber. There was electricity in the air arching between them.

Thranduil was surprised to find that she still had been asleep, but given the extent of her injuries, he was glad she had spent the better part her day resting. Sleep would be as important as his healing work in restoring her to full health. He was anxious to see her well.

Turning to his servant, he ordered food to be brought for her, remembering how hungry she had been when she arrived. He removed the metal plates and the thick leather of his armor. Clad only in black pants and a tight fitting black shirt, he moved to sit on the bed next her.

“Did you sleep well Amelina?” he asked, noting how she clutched the sheet tighter to her body as he approached her.

“Yes, but it is hard sometimes to keep the eye away.”

“The eye?”

“Yes, the eye tries to find me, especially when I sleep.”

“Tell me about the eye, what do you mean?”

Amelina shuddered and Thranduil could tell she was looking inside herself, that she was visiting a memory.

“It is like a fiery, full moon. He calls me like your River did, only I do not want to go when He calls.”

“He?” Thranduil pushed her despite her obvious unease.

“Yes, He is always looking for me. When his shadow comes, it is cold, but when He gets close to seeing me with His eye, it burns. I have only looked at Him once.”

“How long has He been looking for you?” Thranduil asks, perplexed, wondering if her story is a nightmare. She had told him she had been held by a man in a cage. Perhaps she had dreams of lingering trauma from her days of being held by a cruel master.

“I think from when I was with my Mother. He killed her, there was fire when she died. His eye was on me before our garden was set to flames.”

The color drained from her, even her tanned face appeared white. A tear slipped from her eye, the droplet was as purple as the eye from which it fell and Thranduil looked at her with concern. Her tears before had been colorless.

“Okay,” he said gently, brushing the colored tinge away with his finger, not wanting to upset her with further questions for now, given her fragile state. His hand absently ran through her long golden, copper tinted hair as he studied her, unable to look away. The spell was broken when the servant arrived in the room with a food tray for her.

Thranduil turned, motioning for him to set it down on the table. Retrieving a new set of clothing from the bed chair that the tailor had constructed for her, using her old garments as a guide, Thranduil offered her his hand to help her from the bed. She took his large hand in her small one while grasping the sheet firmly with the other, moving gingerly so as not to uncover herself.

When she was standing in front of him, Thranduil easily pried the sheet from her fingers and it fell to the floor. Amelina gasped.

“Do not be ashamed Lina,” he said in a thick, admiring voice, “You are very beautiful.”

He had meant only to take a cursory look at her wounds to see how well they had responded to his treatment and then to allow her to dress, but now it was his eyes burning into her, not the eye of her nightmares. His hand cupped her cheek as he turned her face up to his. The top of her head barely reached his shoulders and he had to bend down to reach her. He let his mouth cover hers. His kiss was not harsh, but it was consuming, and filled with want.

Her diminutive hand reached up and clasped his shirt tightly and she swayed. Thranduil did not break the kiss. He dropped her clothing and wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her. When he finally pulled away, she shivered and her lips trembled when his fingers brushed across them.

“Was your other master cruel to you Lina?” he crooned, his voice low and soft. He took the tears that flooded her eyes as an affirmative answer to his question.

“I will be very, very good to you angel,” he said as his hand fell to her breast. He brushed his fingers over the tight nub of her nipple and down to her navel. Slipping his arm beneath her knees, he lifted her and laid her on his bed before stripping off his own clothes. Lying down next to her, he took her mouth in his again, plying her into submission with feather light caresses over her bruised, firm breasts.

She whimpered softly beneath his touch and her body trembled as his warm torso pressed up against her side. Parting her legs, he led his hand cup her sleek mound and his fingers traced over her slit. Her hips involuntarily bucked up to meet his touch.

“That's right angel,” he murmured as he opened her, slipping his finger between her swollen lips. Propping himself on his elbow he looked down at her. Her violet eyes were wide and dilated, her rose bud mouth slightly parted. She cried out when he let his fingers tease her clit and she squirmed.

“Lina, you are so wet,” he said, knowing he should wait until her injuries healed. The difference in their size would be enough to contend with without having to be careful of her broken and bruised body. He kept telling himself he would stop, that he would wait, but as he slid his finger into her opening, he worried that he had already reached the point of no return.

She took in a sharp, short breath as his finger entered her and he stared down between her legs thinking how unbelievably tight she was. Her beautiful sex was like a flower, soft and pink, glistening in her silky moisture. Then it hit him. She was not just tight, but still intact. The membrane of her maidenhood stretched around his finger like a band.

He looked at his heavy shaft pressed up against her thigh, so much larger than the finger her virginity was now tautly wrapped around.

"Amelina, your other master did not take you?” he asked but it was really more of a statement than a question.

“No,” she choked out, “He said I had to stay pure to keep the eye from finding me.”

Thranduil found it hard to imagine how her captor could have resisted her, although a virgin female faerie would be worth a King’s ransom. Still, even if he were to sell or trade her, she would not leave his Halls before he had taken his pleasure with her, he had thought of little else since the moment he first saw her.

Thranduil withdrew his finger from inside her and began stroking and circling her core. Her hips thrust forward and she let out a jagged cry. He slipped his hand beneath her head on lifted her to a sitting position on his lap, wanting to hold her without putting pressure on her broken ribs. He kept his hand behind her head holding her face inches from his as he continued to massage her center.

“Do you like this Lina, does it feel good?” he asked, his eyes boring into hers.

“Yes,” she mewled, her hand grasping onto his shoulder as her body tensed. He increased the intensity of his flickering fingertips and she held her breath, clasping onto him tighter. “Breathe Lina, “ he said, his voice husky and warm. He saw the startled look in her hazy violet stare and she sucked in air.

“That’s right angel, come for me,” he coaxed. Her body tensed and arched as her rigid nub twitched under his fingers. She cried out and he held her firmly in place as the shockwaves coursed through her.

“Oh Lina, that's good, good girl,” he murmured and an appreciative grin crossed his face as he watched her climax. He let her collapse against his chest when he had finished her and she nuzzled into him, her body shaking. Her hand reached up to her face and she touched her lips. Thranduil pulled her hand into his and pressed his mouth against hers in a lush kiss. He stroked her back waiting, for her to recover.


	5. Chapter 5

_“We do not want merely to see beauty... we want something else which can hardly be put into words- to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it. That is why we have peopled air and earth and water with gods and goddesses, and nymphs and elves.”_  
_― C.S. Lewis_

“Lina,” Thranduil’s voice was soft and comforting as he arranged her on the bed. Now was the time. She was languid and wet. Spreading her thighs, he kissed her forehead and covered her sex in his hand. He parted her still swollen folds and slipped a finger inside her.

“This will hurt angel,” he warned almost in a whisper as he forced a second finger inside her. She jerked and whimpered.

“Shhhh, it is okay. Just relax,” he crooned, hoping she would not cry. Gently he worked his fingers, stretching her. She tried to wriggle away, but he pinned her down easily with one long leg. She bit her bottom lip and tears started to slip from her eyes, clear tears. Thranduil found them almost unbearable. He leaned in, kissing them away, surprised to find that instead of salty, her tears were sinfully sweet.

“Oh Lina, I adore you,” he murmured. “I am sorry sweetheart, but it will be better for you this way.” Inserting a third finger inside her, he felt the elastic of her maidenhead begin to give.

“Master it hurts,” she pleaded in a broken sob.

“We are almost there. I am almost done angel,” he soothed.

“Look at me.” His crystal blue eyes met her beseeching violet ones. He took her hand in his.

“Hold onto me angel,” he instructed softly. “Take a deep breath.”

With that, he gave a final, quick stretch and he felt her giving way under his fingers. She screamed and he covered her mouth with a repentant, tranquilizing kiss. 

“It is over Lina. It is done,” he reassured, pulling his blood tinged fingers from her. “It will be okay now. It will not hurt like this again, I promise,” he crooned, spilling light kisses over her eyes and her flushed cheeks.

“I am going to make it all better now little one,“ he consoled, moving his kisses down her neck and over her chest.

Lightly taking her nipple in between his lips and sucking, he felt it stiffen and she moaned. Her body was moist from sweat and he was delighted to find, that too, was sweet. Thranduil stifled a groan as he savored the taste of her. He moved down over her belly, his tongue dipping into her navel and she hummed. The air shifted around them.

As he reached the apex between her legs, the perfumed scent of her blood and her arousal entwined and made him heady. He spread her apart and let his finger circle the deep crimson ridge of her wounded opening. She was only bleeding slightly now. He kissed her tenderly there and began licking her clean. Her blood was tangy and enticing.

Thranduil could sense his guard at the door. It was best, he thought. She needed a day or two to heal before he could take her for himself, but he would leave her today remembering the pleasure he had given her, not the pain he had caused.

He had wanted to spend more time with her, but duty was calling. He placed his lips over her pulsating clit and sucked it in. She squealed and he grinned without breaking the suction. He loved how expressive she was. The guard would be getting an earful.

He let her build for a moment and then he licked her in circles before lapping up her core and suckling her again. Her hands came down and she buried them in his hair. He could hardly abide her touch, the ache in his groin was so intense now her taste could almost make him come.

He sucked her hard and rhythmically. The only word he could make out in her incoherent babbling was “master.” Her cries echoed in the room when she came and he held her hips down, it felt as though her whole body was trying to levitate.

When he had ushered her through the last throes of her passion, he moved up to her side, pulling the cool fabric of the sheet over them.

“Yes?”

Thranduil gave the guard permission to enter, still staring down at the faerie in his bed, running his fingers through her hair, watching her pant as she tried to regulate her breathing.

“My Lord, the patrols have located a party of dwarves, there are three. They say they have come to barter with you.

“Barter for what?” Thranduil growled with displeasure.

“They would not say My Lord.”

“What of Legolas and Tauriel? Have they returned?”

“Yes My Lord. They have a prisoner, they are waiting for you.”

“Very well. Send in Galion.”

“Yes My Lord.” The guard bowed and left the room not attempting to hide his grin. Thranduil had not once looked up from the muse in his bed and would not notice anyway.

“Are you okay little one?” Thranduil asked, his eyes locked with hers.

Amelina nodded, but moved in close to him snuggling up against his chest, her warm breath making his skin tingle. He chuckled and embraced her.

“I must attend to my duties. Galion will come and take you to the baths.” He kissed her once more and she clung to him. Closing his eyes he held her against him but the throbbing in his loins was overwhelming and he pried himself loose, kissing her forehead before leaving the bed.

Galion arrived and dressed the King in in his long golden robes for his meeting with the dwarves. He combed back Thranduil’s silver tresses that fell like a waterfall down his back, before placing the crown on his head.

Thranduil left the room without turning back to Amelina. It was hard to leave her and he needed to put her from his mind so that he could attend to the matters at hand.

***

Thranduil sat between the expansive elk horns on his throne, staring down at the three dwarves being brought unchained before him. Technically, they were not trespassers. They had announced their presence to his patrols and requested an audience. That did not mean he could not throw them in his dungeons. The thought of imprisoning them lightened his dark mood a bit. Leaving his fae had pained him and his unquenched desire had left him quite irritable.

“Greetings King Thranduil, I am Borith of the house of Grendell,” the dwarf gave a respectful, low bow.

Thranduil nodded his acknowledgment but did not speak, his expression of disinterest held steady.

“We have heard news that you have come across a treasure, one that belonged my Grandfather, Gigrad”

Thranduil stiffened, although the change in him was imperceptible to the dwarves. He knew without it being said that the treasure Borith was speaking of was the faerie, _his_ faerie, Amelina.

“She escaped from my Grandfather, her and another, a male. I have the certificate here stating they are both his property,” Borith asserted boldly, handing the paper to the King’s guard. Lucient read the document and turned his gaze upon the King.

“It is as he says My Lord.”

“Yet your Grandfather has been dead for many years, has he not? You are not a young Dwarf by appearances, Borith, of the house of Grendell,” the King retorted, standing then descending gracefully down the staircase of his throne.

“Yes, that is true, but she was to be inherited by my Father and then by myself.”

“Yet she has roamed free for many years. And now that I have offered her shelter from the grips of her attacker, you think it is your right to come here and claim her now?” The King asked accusingly.

“Well, not exactly My Lord. I thought that perhaps I could persuade you to return her to her rightful owner by offering you a trade.”

Thranduil scoffed. “What could you possibly have to offer me that could come close to the value of such a rare gem as a fae?

“Something that belongs to you My Lord, just as she belongs to _me_ ,” the dwarf said pulling a cloth from his vest pocket.

Thranduil stared as Borith opened the fabric, revealing a small, single white jewel. The King’s eyes widened and he took in a sharp breath of air. It was only one, one of many, but unmistakably the gem was of pure starlight. It was a white gem of Lasgalen. He stared at the jewel longingly.

“I will return to you the necklace in full My Lord, the heirloom of your people, in exchange for what is mine, the faerie.”

Thranduil looked up at the dwarf, regaining his composure.

“And how do I know you truly have possession of the necklace, that this is not just a ruse?” the King asked.

“I will bring the necklace here tomorrow My Lord, if you will but give me your word that you will trade the faerie in exchange.”

Thranduil paused for a long moment, he eyes moving from the jewel and back to the dwarf again.

***  
Amelina rose from the bed and donned the robe Galion had left on the bed for her. He had retrieved her new clothing from the floor and was waiting just outside the door to take her to the baths. Her knees were still wobbly from her time with the ElvenKing and she smiled to herself despite the burning sensation between her legs.

Galion was kind and given to indulge her modesty, offering her a peach before they walked down the hall to the baths. Amelina ate the ripe fruit hungrily, its juice sticking to her fingers. The water was a tranquil blue and very warm. It soothed the rawness from the King’s deflowering as well as her older wounds, now well on the mend.

She missed her brother terribly and the grief sat in her stomach with the undigested peach. She cried while washing herself and let her tears spill into the placating water. Still, her mind kept wandering back to the silky voice and the glacial eyes of her new master.

She felt as if her entire world had cracked open, revealing a new and unknown realm she had never thought to dream of. She could feel his lips on hers, his warmth, his mouth on her secret places and the time altering sensations he had made her feel.

Galion politely kept his back turned as she dressed in her new clothing. It was much like her old attire, but made of finer material. Her blouse was softer in color and touch, like cream. Her vest was golden and velvety with gilded laces. The jagged bisque skirt glittered even in the pale candle light. It was the finest clothing she had ever worn. Her damp hair clung to her face as she slipped on the flat, shimmering, copper slippers that had seemed to magically appear while she was bathing.

“Come My Lady, the King would like for you to have a proper meal,” Galion said when she walked to him, not sure if she liked the feel of the footwear.She was accustomed to being barefoot. She followed obediently.

As the turned a corner and walked down the corridor, Amelina slowed, hearing the King’s voice. She veered closer to the doorway from where it came, lured by the sound of him. There was another voice as well, a familiar one, less pleasing and gruff.

As she neared, the words being spoken became clear and she felt a stabbing pain in her heart. Her master was trading her, trading her for jewels.

Galion turned and frowned, realizing she had fallen behind. Walking to her, he took her arm in his, mistaking her lagging for need of food. “Come now, let us get some sustenance for you,” he said kindly, guiding her through the hall.

Amelina fought the floating sensation rising within her. It was never something she could make happen, but she could sometimes tamper it if she tried hard enough. She talked herself down as her eyes scanned the hallways.

There were some openings in the ceilings where the light came in. She would escape before she allowed her new master to send her back to the cage she had lived in with her brother for so many years. Purple tears began to spill from her eyes, blurring her vision as she walked on the arm of Galion, planning her escape.


	6. Chapter 6

_The tooth fairy teaches children that they can sell body parts for money._  
_David Richerby_

Amelina sat at the table in Thranduil’s room eating, waiting for her chance. She was tense and trying hard not to fidget. It was difficult to suppress her emotions. The men the King had been working out the terms of her trade with sounded just like the man who had held her and her brother captive for most of her life.

She could not go back to living in a cage, especially without her brother. The purple tears threatened to pour from her eyes but Amelina held them at bay. She would need those tears to escape, and she would need them sooner rather than later. The men could be coming to take her away anytime.

With a push of her toes, she slipped off the uncomfortable slippers she was wearing underneath the table. They were not made for running. Stuffing a few leaves in her mouth, Amelina willed herself to look totally engrossed in her food so the servant would not watch her too closely. It was easy to do, she was hungry.

In her mind, she saw a mental map of the places she had been through in the King’s caves, routing out the path she would take to escape. It was a game she and her brother had played many times and she was very good at imagining a way out. She had escaped a captor once before, she could do it again.

It was not long before the King’s servant was distracted from watching her munch on flowers and greens and was engaged in conversation with someone in the hallway. Amelina slipped silently from her chair. Her bare feet made no sound as she approached the door. Gauging the sounds of their voices, she waited until the tones of both of their speech indicated they had their backs turned to her.

Staying close to the far edge of the doorway, she peeked around the corner. They were close, but she was certain she could make it. She moved stealthily until she was sure she was far enough away to make a break for it. Amelina made a good ten strides before the shouts began. Racing through the hall, she took the left turn at the second fork that led into a grand vestibule. It was there she had seen the opening on the roof of the cave.

She dashed, staying as far away from the doorways lining the corridor as possible, just in case someone might pop out and give chase. She reached the point where the passage led into the expansion of open space. There were two stories of rooms that could be seen from where she was standing and she skirted her way around the sparkling pool in the center.

On the other side was the cavity in the ceiling, but it was far overhead and Amelina suddenly felt fear rushing through her. She was not astute at knowing how to fly. She could only make it happen when her emotions were in complete turmoil, like when she and her brother had been attacked by Orcs. Even then, it was hard to control. Living in a cage for so much of her life had not afforded her much time or space for practice.

Once she and her brother had escaped, there was not much need to invoke this power. They lived very peacefully in the meadows beyond the mountain. It had been the happiest time of her life that she could remember. Now, as she stood in the small panel of light on the floor staring up, the need to fly was greater than it had ever been before.

She willed the tears she had suppressed to come forth, the purple tears that appeared only when a certain place in her heart ached. It was not easy to force them at will. She could imagine her Mother, or her brother, and the tremendous grief that came with her darkest memories of their loss and she was trying hard to do this now.

“Halt!” an unmistakable voice cut through her thoughts. She turned to find Thranduil standing on the other side of the turquoise pool staring at her with his glacial blue eyes, a look of fear on his usually stoic features. Next to him were the three, much shorter men he was ransoming her too.

The purple tears began to flow freely. Her new master had awakened unknown feelings inside of her and his betrayal caused her a kind of heartbreak she had never experienced before. It was a gut wrenching kind of pain that hurt unlike any other. It broke her to know she was leaving him, that she would never see him again, never hear his voice, never feel his touch, or his lips.  She hiccupped a tiny sob as she felt her feet lifting off the ground. She missed him so much already.

Eyeing the crater in the ceiling through a purple haze, she watched it come closer and closer into view until she was out of the cool air of the caves and encompassed in the light of the sun. Amelina knew not what direction she was headed, only that once she finally landed in a tree, the forest was dark, as if the light she had flown to was a mirage and did not really exist at all.

She clamored down the deadened branches that felt brittle beneath her toes and ran, ignoring the feeling of being pursued. No doubt her master was sending a search party to retrieve her, he had made it clear that she had monetary value to him. He would not let her go easily and forgo his reward, but she was a lone fae in the forest. It would be easy to elude him.

It was not long before she realized that it was not her master that was trying to trail her, it was the eye. It was Him. Her brother had always helped her ward Him off, but she was alone now, so very alone. How stupid she had been to think that her new master would fill the void that threatened to overwhelm her. She had no one.

She smelled them before she heard or saw them, Orcs. They came upon her fast, too fast. By the time her panic had risen to level to lift her from the ground, they were already there. The tallest one was able to grab her ankle above his head. She shrieked as his claws bit into her flesh.

He pulled her down, letting his slimy hands travel up her thighs and under her skirt before grabbing her waist and bringing her just below eye level to accommodate his hunched back. His head was huge and fat. Amelia had to shift her eyes back and forth, unable to focus on both of his at once with their faces so close.

His breath was foul and his body emanated a terrible stench that made her stomach roil. Several of his teeth were missing, but the ones that were there were sharp and caked with gunk. His chest was bare and she closed her eyes as he brought her against his cold, grey skin, licking his chops.

“My Master has been looking for you Princess.” A string of drool with a large globule at the end dripped from his mouth onto Amelina’s chest and oozed down between her breasts.

***

Thranduil grinned ruefully at the dwarf. Yes, he wanted the jewels. He wanted them badly and he would have them, someday. He would move an army and take them, he would plunder, pillage and steal to get them, but he would not trade his faerie for them.

Not only would he never even consider putting Amelina back in the hands of such creatures as the dwarves, he would no more part from her than he would sell his own soul to the Dark Lord. She may be his captive fae, but Thranduil knew the truth. She had captured his heart. She was more precious to him than any jewels.

He was still arguing with the obtrusive dwarfs when he heard the shouting in the hallway. Running out, with the dwarf’s following swiftly on his heels, he saw her standing in the beam of light. He gave a firm command for her to halt, but he saw the pain in her eyes and he knew he was too late. He watched in awe as she flew high above him, far, far from his reach and his heart sank.


	7. Chapter 7

_“And the more he gazed at her, the more he felt a twinge of something he couldn't quite describe, an unknown surge that bubbled inside him from the first moment he’d caught sight of her, and it wouldn't release him.” ― J.L. Sheppard, Heavenly Desire_

Thranduil began shouting orders, the first of which was to keep the dwarfs in the palace under guard. They could not be allowed to alert others of her escape or be permitted to hunt for her on their own.

He moved briskly, his boots clicking heavily on the ground, calling for Legolas to assemble a company. He needed his best warriors, now. Seeing the tight set of his jaw and the determination in his eyes, the guards scurried to carry out his commands.

“Father,” Legolas hailed, seeing the King, “The Orc’s that attacked, they were here for her.”

“What?” Thranduil did not stop, but he slowed his pace and looked directly into cold blue eyes that were so much like his own.

“We were waiting for you, but the prisoner has been talking. They came for her.”

“Why?”

“I do not know.”

Thranduil nodded and kept moving. There was no time for further interrogation of the prisoner, he would deal with him after Amelina was found. Anger burned through his chest. His people had rescued her. He had been good to her. He had not caged her. He had fed her, treated her wounds, clothed her and had even indulged her pleasure without taking his own.

She had returned his favors by escaping under his nose. He should let her die out there, let the spiders take her, she deserved nothing less for her insolence. She was in terrible danger in the forest alone. Any horrible fate could befall her.

When he found her, he would not be so easy on her. He had coddled her, tried to woo her. He had been too soft with her. He would not make that mistake again. He would use all of his resources to rescue her and bring her back to safety, but there would be a price to pay and he would collect from her. He would milk from her every last drop of what she owed to him for this. She belonged to him.

***

The sound of gravel spitting beneath hooves filled the air and Tauriel jumped on the horse behind Legolas, wrapping her arms around his waist. He adjusted his balance to accommodate her. The feel of riding with her, having her rocking up against him from behind always sent chills down his spine and gave way to luscious fantasies. It was one of the few situations where physical contact with her was required and he relished in it.

Tauriel was not like the reserved palace maidens that were constantly paraded in front of him by hopeful mothers. She was strong, brave, fiery and full of life. He had had been given the task of teaching her how to harness all of that energy into a finely tuned set of skills that made her a high ranking officer in the Woodland King’s army. Legolas had worked hard to get her here, but to be truthful, she was a favorite of his Father and that had helped secure her position as well.

It was perplexing to Legolas why his Father so openly discouraged him from becoming attached to her. Thranduil was very fond of the red haired elleth. He had always treated Tauriel much like a daughter. Once she had come of age, Legolas did not miss the hint of appreciation in his Father’s eyes when he looked upon her. There was no question the King thought highly of her, yet he clearly steered his son in a different direction every time Legolas tried to communicate his feelings about Tauriel to his Father.

Legolas felt Tauriel tighten her grasp on his waist as he leaned his horse into a sharp turn, trying hard to concentrate on the distant sound his finely tuned ears were picking up on in the distance. He lifted his own arm to hold onto her for a moment, although there was no real fear of her falling. He felt the rush of heat passing between them as his skin touched hers. Her breathing quickened and he could not be sure if it was from his touch, or if she too had heard the sounds of the clumsy Oc’s clamoring ahead of them.

He had the lead now, Thranduil was behind them. His Father was distracted. The escape of the faerie seemed to distress him, although nobody except for Legolas would notice the change in the imperceptible King.

The Orc prisoner Legolas and Tauriel captured had hinted that this particular being was of some significance. Perhaps his Father knew something about the fae that he had not yet shared with his son. Legolas sensed something akin to physical pain in his Father when he called up his forces to go after her. This fae was important to the King for reasons other than her sheer, albeit extraordinary, monetary value.

****

Thranduil heard the Orcs at the same time his son did, but he allowed Legolas to take the front position. He wanted to be in the vantage point of seeing the Orc’s reaction to being felled upon from behind. This would allow him to focus on Amelina rather than the initial offensive attack the Orc’s were sure to launch once they saw the King’s forces were upon them.

Thranduil would be in a better position to ensure the fae’s safety from the secondary line. He had no doubt as to Legolas’ ability to lead the raid. He looked away from the image of Tauriel’s straight back, riding in rhythm with the horse’s lope in front of him, her long red hair swaying over her slim shoulders. The memory of Tauriel’s Mother haunted him every time he looked at their daughter.

All thoughts of Tauriel left him as the Orc’s came into view. His vision honed directly on the largest Orc in the pack, more importantly, on the faerie who appeared especially tiny in the beast's massive grip. Her graceful little hands were holding onto the thick grey arms, her fingertips making dimpling impressions in the flesh she could not fully grasp. He had her suspended above the ground. Her pink toes flexed midair in pain. Her face was winced in agony, her eyes squeezed shut as purple tears streamed down her face.

A violent fury surged through his veins. The first weapon unleashed belonged to the King. The soft sweep of his sword sliding from its sheath was so rapid it was barely audible. The weapon whirred through the air, hitting its mark with a dull, sinking thud. The Orc's eyes registered the blade stabbing though bone and brain before glossing over in a blank stare. Thranduil was there to catch Amelina before her body hit the ground.


	8. Chapter 8

_“Far more often [than asking the question 'Is it true?'] they [children] have asked me: 'Was he good? Was he wicked?' That is, they were far more concerned to get the Right side and the Wrong side clear. For that is a question equally important in History and in Faerie.”_  
_― J.R.R. Tolkien, Tolkien on Fairy-stories_

 

Legolas was surprised that his Father was allowing him to lead the attack. He knew with certainty the King had made a conscious decision to give him the front, it was no accident. Legolas was a skilled fighter, more skilled than any other elf, save for Thranduil. He could strive his entire life to be a stronger warrior than his Father, but he would fail that task. Never would there be another who could match the King’s abilities in all of middle earth. Yet now, his Father was purposely hanging back.

Thranduil had made the first kill, but he had ceased to fight immediately, instead rushing to catch the fae before she was dropped in the dirt by the monster he had slain for her. Legolas understood when he saw his Father lift the slight faerie into his arms, that he was relying on his son to take out the Orc pack while the King reclaimed his treasure.

Legolas complied, quickly giving orders and dispatching of the repulsive creatures, while providing cover for the Thranduil and his prize. He did not need direct instructions from his Father and he appreciated that the King trusted in his ability to know what to do. The Prince knew the value of the faerie and did not question his Father’s desire to bring her back to the Woodland Halls.

Tauriel moved in sync with Legolas, they fought side by side as if they were partners in an exquisitely choreographed dance. Often, it seemed they could anticipate each other’s next move, as if they were connected by an unknown force. It was exhilarating fighting next to her. He loved the way she challenged her body, the way it flexed and bowed, the sounds she made as she exerted herself, pulling upon a strength that was rare for an elleth. She had the blood of a warrior pumping through her veins.

***

Thranduil let his hands run over Amelina and he breathed a sigh of relief. She did not seem to be wounded badly. She was in a state of shock, her body was shaking violently, her skin was cold and clammy to his touch. She would not open her eyes and her breaths were coming in short rasps. It was as if she did not realize the hands that held her now were not that of the Orc, but those of the ElvenKing. She cringed with each movement he made.

His soft whispers did not break through whatever state she was in. Thranduil’s warriors were covering them, but he needed to retrieve his sword and return with her to his palace immediately. The threat to her out here was too great.

“Amelina, shhhhh, I have you,” he soothed as he pulled his sword from the dead Orc’s skull. She shuddered at the sucking whoosh the metal made as the creature’s dead flesh gave way, releasing its hold on the King’s weapon. Thranduil was angry enough to throttle her, but her current condition gave him pause for concern.

Legolas and his company made quick work of the large Orc pack. Thranduil had taken out their leader, making them easy prey. Orc’s by nature were dumb and clumsy. Without a commander, they proved to be little more than target practice despite their numbers. Nonetheless, it was clear to the King, they had come for her and that meant there could be reinforcements on the way. He needed to get her to the safety of his halls where the force of his entire army could protect her if need be.

The elven company rode hard to the gates of Mirkwood, the faerie secured in the embrace of their King. Something was not quite as it should be. Thranduil sensed stillness in the air, a strange calm. He knew this forest and its creatures, he knew them well. It was as if even the trees were on high alert and the wind had ceased to breathe. The sounds of the horses hooves beating against the ground seemed to slow and an invisible wave of heat passed over them just as they reached the palace. They quickly made their way inside.

***

Thranduil took Amelina to his bed this night, but her cage would be ready by the morning. For now he buckled thick leather straps around her wrists and secured them to the bedposts. She whimpered and pulled slightly against the cuffs but did not wake. He would not have her escaping again, she would get herself killed and Thranduil would have to risk the lives of his soldiers to rescue her. Letting her sleep, he turned to go to the pools to bathe.

He returned to his chambers about an hour later in a gold satin robe, carrying a goblet of wine. He stared down at the faerie in his bed who had managed to twist her arms in her restraints so that they were crossed above her in what appeared to be a terribly uncomfortable position. Sighing, he sat his goblet on the table and unbuckled her. She moaned and shifted. Slipping out of his robe, Thranduil slid in bed next to her, roping her in his arms for the night.

In the morning, Amelina awoke to a jarring, rattling sound. She sat up straight in bed rubbing her eyes, disorientated. She still was not accustomed to being in the caves and it felt strange, waking in the King’s soft bed between the lush cool sheets. She turned toward the noise and saw it. A servant was wheeling in a cage with thick, heavy bars. Her eyes filled with alarm and she searched the room, finding the King up and dressed, watching her.

Thranduil saw her look of panic upon seeing the cage. When her frightened, violet eyes met his, he smirked. Now that she had regained her composure, he would not allow himself to be distracted from getting her under control.

Amelina leapt from the bed, still wearing the new clothes she had donned the day before. Her eyes darted around the room looking for an escape route. The King eyed her warily, knowing she was going to bolt and his hand went to the hilt of his sword. He made it to the doorway before her, with his blade drawn.

She may have been expecting him to block her, but she was not expecting his weapon. Had he not been so skilled wielding the sword, she might have been seriously injured. Instead a small stream of blood trickled from the prick on her neck. The King had backed up the blade enough to keep her from running herself through. She gasped and her hand went to the wound. Thranduil stepped forward, sheathing his sword. He pulled her away from the entry and motioned for the servant to leave, closing the heavy wooden door behind him.

Thranduil took her bloodied hand from her neck and bent down, placing his mouth over the small hole left by the sharp tip of his weapon. He sucked the pooled blood away, leaving a bruised mark around the the tiny sore. Her hands went up to his shoulders and she tried to push him away, but he did not budge. She brought her leg up, kneeing him in the groin and he grunted. He released her, then back handed her across the cheek hard enough to send her sprawling on the floor in front of him.

“Enough!” he bellowed. Grasping a handful of her silken hair, he brought her to her feet. Amelina spit, splattering the right side of his face. Her eyes were a brilliant hue of stormy violet and she flailed, lashing out at him with her hands and feet. Thranduil met her eyes with a frozen blue stare before pinning her arms at her side and dragging her to the bed. He pulled down her skirt and undergarment and turned her over his knee.

His large hand came down on her bare bottom and a resounding smack echoed through the room. Amelina screamed, her voice filled with rage and pain. Thranduil’s hand whipped down in rapid succession, the slapping noises coming so close together it sounded from the hallway as if someone were clapping. He continued until he had her subdued.

When she ceased struggling, Thranduil stopped. His hand rubbed her inflamed buttocks and he felt the tension release from her. His voice was soft, but not without warning.

“Amelina, I treated you as my guest and you were very, very naughty,” he said, bringing his hand down on her bottom again. Her body contracted at the stinging pain, but she did not make a sound. He began rubbing her again in soothing circular motions.

“Now you will have to earn my goodwill by behaving properly and following the rules.” Thranduil expected her to fight him again but she remained still and he was pleased when she did not talk back.

He turned her over and brought her up to sit in his lap. He cautiously lifted her chin, ready to cover her mouth with his hand should she spit again, but she was limp and pliable, tears streaming down her face. Thranduil shifted uncomfortably beneath her, realizing that spanking her had piqued his arousal. He dragged his thumb over her bottom lip.

“Oh Lina,” he murmured, the Orc prisoner he was anxious to interrogate all but forgotten for the moment.

***

Gandalf walked through the tall field of water thirsty grass. The brittle blades crunched beneath his feet as his eyes moved across the horizon. A silver steed emerged from the tree line, stopping to acknowledge the wizard. Shadowfax flicked his tail and bobbed his head, taking in a heavy breath with nostrils flared. His front hoof raked the ground before he began his approach.

Gandalf walked towards the horse, leaning heavily on his staff with each step. When they met, he lowered his head and reached out to stroke the nose of the beast before him. “The Eye of Sauron has turned to Mirkwood my friend. The Princess has been discovered.”

The horse dipped his head in acknowledgment and held steady for Gandalf to mount. It was a long ride but they would not be stopping until they made it to the dark forest.

***

"Legolas!" The Prince stopped, hearing her voice, and turned.

"Did you feel it?" Tauriel asked, her eyes both excited and afraid.

"Yes, I felt it."

"What was it?"

"I do not know, but it was nothing good, no good will come of this day Tauriel."

She stared at him and gulped. Seeing he had frightened her, he quickly changed his demeanor and reached out to her. He was caught off guard when she dove into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and placing her head on his shoulder. Slowly, he returned her embrace and tentatively placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Do not be afraid Tauriel, my Father will know what it was," he reassured her. "He will know what to do."

She let go and stepped back, looking down.

"I-I am sorry My Lord, I...."

"Do not be sorry Tauriel. I am not." 

She lifted her gaze to meet his and his eyes held her. The embarrassment on her face shifted, turning into something else. Legolas took a step toward her, his arm reaching out to rest on hers.

"My Lord Legolas!"

The Prince turned to the approaching guard. He had the Orc Legolas and Tauriel had captured in chains by his side.

"The prisoner is ready as you requested."

"Take him to the throne room, I will tell my Father."

"Yes My Lord."

Legoals turned and looked back at Tauriel for a long moment before nodding to her and taking his leave to attend to his duties.


	9. Chapter 9

_The impulse to cruelty is, in many people, almost as violent as the impulse to sexual love - almost as violent and much more mischievous._  
_Aldous Huxley_

“Lina,” Thranduil moaned as he ran his fingers gently over her bruised cheek. He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her softly. She shivered before promptly biting his lip. Thranduil could not remember the last time he had bled. It had been centuries and it had been from a far worthier opponent than the delicate little fae in his lap.

He reacted swiftly, ripping her new blouse and vest from her. She pounded on his chest with her fists while he used her white shirt to wipe the blood from his mouth.

“Rule number one Amelina, no biting,” he growled as he buckled her wrists in the thick leather straps attached to the wooden bed posts.

He divested himself of his clothing quickly, pulling his pants off last. She stopped writhing and twisting for a moment to stare at him, first in awe and then with trepidation. Thranduil smirked, his lips stained from the blood she had drawn. When he put his knee down on the bed next to her, she brought up her legs up to kick him off, but with her arms restrained, it just made Thranduil chuckle.

He caught an ankle in each hand and spread her legs wide. His eyes raked over her naked form. She was petite but curvy, her breasts full. Her waist was high and tiny, giving way to ample hips. She had an hourglass figure. Her nipples stood taut and firm under his heated gaze, pointing slightly upward.

Grasping both of her ankles in one hand, he lifted her legs up over her head exposing her already reddened bottom and he smacked her hard again, licking his lips, still tasting the blood.

“Rule number two Amelina, no kicking.” She cried out and when she clamped her eyes shut, he rubbed her soft bottom again

“Be a good girl now Lina,” his voice was rough as he brought her legs down.

“Open your eyes little one,” he said gripping her jaw and turning her face towards him. He squeezed, tighter and tighter until she complied. “That's right Lina, that's more like it.”

He opened her legs and knelt between them. Amelina trembled when he reached his hands down and parted her sex with his fingers, his eyes examining her most private places. Her face burned in shame and embarrassment. He rubbed his finger over her nub and she quivered. His eyes traveled up to hers and he smirked again, raising a brow.

He moved up, leaning over her and covered her mouth in his, kissing her brutally, daring her to bite him. His mouth traveled over her shoulders and down to her breasts. He took an erect nipple between his lips and laved it with his tongue, his hand reached up to plump her breast. Amelina moaned and he bit down hard. She screamed and jerked. Thranduil laughed softly at her.

Unable to wait any longer, he propped himself up over her and took his cock in his hand. It was stiff and heavy, it had been a long time since he had felt such a burning need for anyone of the fairer sex. He placed his crown at her still raw opening and her eyes flew open wide in alarm.

“No! No! Please,” she begged, shaking her head back and forth. “I’ll be good, I promise,” she cried.

“Oh yes, you will be good. So, so good,” his voice was filled with heat and he grinned wickedly.

“It’s too big, I can’t! Don’t, please don’t,” she protested, her voice filled with panic.

“Shhhhhh,” he ordered, smiling mercilessly. “Another word and it will go in your mouth.”

He plunged into her and hot purple tears spilled from her eyes, wetting the hand he raised to stifle her scream. He withdrew and plunged into her again. He held there and removed his hand from her face. She sobbed brokenly.

“This is nothing, nothing compared to what that Orc would have done to you Amelina. Rule number three, you never, ever leave these halls without my protection!” he panted, grimacing as he began moving in and out of her.

“Oh Lina, you are so tight.” he groaned. Droplets of pre cum oozed from his cleft, slickening her passage. He took her face in his hands, wiping away the purple tears that left her cheeks stained.

“Sweet, sweet Lina, I almost lost you,” he lamented, gripping her shoulders, the burn swelling inside him.

“But you were going to- to sell me for the jewels,” she choked between sobs.

Thranduil tried to stop, shocked by her words, but a current was resonating inside him of its own accord and the first ripple was already coursing through him. Trying to halt it only amplified the pressure and he was being dragged along. He could no more stop it than he could have stopped a breaking wave in the ocean.

“Lina,” his voice was low and husky, “No, …”

 His eyes locked with hers as he plunged into her depth, his face anguished in a crimson flush. He surged inside her, the velocity of each impact causing her to cry out in fear.

“Lina… Lina….,” he called, powerless over the steep ecstasy oscillating through him. He lost himself and was swept away, cresting and blowing apart inside her. His seed soaked her in hot spurts, his eyes reflecting her pain.

Her name fell from from his lips again and again as the waves crashed and dissipated. He enveloped her tightly in his arms. “No Lina, no, I was not going to sell you.”

Thranduil rained soft kisses and over her forehead and eyes, trying to calm her while he released her from her restraints,  “It’s okay. It’s over angel, everything will be okay now,” he said, tenderly caressing her.

Amelina shook in his arms. His guards were waiting for him to interrogate the prisoner, but he would not be leaving her, not now. He whispered softly in her ear, running his fingers through her hair and rocking her. “I’m sorry, Lina, I am sorry I hurt you. Don’t cry, please don’t cry.”


	10. Chapter 10

  
_Bring the buds of the hazel-copse,_  
_Where two lovers kissed at noon;_  
_Bring the crushed red wild-thyme tops_  
_Where they murmured under the moon...._  
_~Alfred Noyes, "An Excellent Way to get a Fairy."_

 

 

Legolas marched to his Father’s chambers, but he was stopped outside the door by a guard. “The King is, um, he is unavailable My Lord Legolas.”

Ignoring the guard, Legolas continued to the door, stopping short when her heard the sounds coming from inside. He turned back to the soldier and rolled his eyes. His Father was calling the faerie by a pet name and was obviously having his way with her.

Legolas was simultaneously furious and bewildered. The little sprite had seemingly enchanted his Father, a most difficult task. Still, he frowned upon the idea that the King would use her in such a way. It was not right. Legolas was okay with her being held at Mirkwood, but only for her own protection. He would speak to his Father about this matter later.

For now, he had guests, or where they prisoners, to attend to. His Father had not given instructions as to what should be done with the three dwarfs and he had yet to interrogate the Orc prisoner. Instead of dealing with his duties, the King was dallying between the sheets with another guest, or prisoner, Legolas still wasn’t sure which one she was yet either.

The dwarfs were demanding to be set free and Legolas meant to oblige them. Thranduil had only locked them up until the fae was found and now that she was secure in the palace, the Prince saw no need to further inflame their ill tempers. He would step in on his Father’s behalf and try to mend fences. He hoped that the King would come to his senses soon.

***

Thranduil was relieved when Amelina finally calmed and stopped shaking. Her breathing was deep and even, she had fallen asleep. He tried to wrap his mind around the events of the past day. How had she heard that the dwarfs were making an offer for her? How would he ensure her safety, protect her if he did not intend to cage her? The terror in her eyes when she saw the cage was evident. Had she only tried to escape because she believed he was going to sell her? Would she try again?

He was guilty of initially seeing her as an acquisition, a rarity to add to his collection of holdings, perhaps even a bargaining chip for a lucrative trade, but not anymore. She meant something else altogether to him now. He wanted her, he wanted to possess her. He wanted her in every way he could possibly imagine and he had spent way too much time imagining all of the ways he could have her. But now he wanted something that went beyond all of that.

He had treated her badly he knew, but the sense of betrayal he felt when she escaped had wounded him. He was a King and was used to being obeyed. But this was for more to him than a mere case of insubordination. It had cut him deeply and it filled him with a sense of dread. The thought of something happening to her had nearly crippled him, he could not bear it had she fallen to the Orc’s.

She stirred in his arms and he felt wetness. She was crying in her sleep and her little fist was gripping the sheet. A pained expression marred her face. “Amelina, it is okay,” he whispered softly, hoping to comfort her without waking her. She woke with a start, gasping.

“Lina, “ he crooned softly.

“He saw me,” she sobbed.

Thranduil took her face in his hands, “Who saw you Lina?”

“The eye, He found me.”

“I am sorry Lina, this is my fault. It will be okay, I promise” he soothed, assuming he had traumatized her enough to cause her nightmares return.

“He’s coming for me,” she cried.

“Lina, I will protect you. You are safe now and I will not hurt you.”

His heart ached at the sight of her swollen cheek and he kissed it gently. “Are you in pain Lina?”

“I’m okay.” Her bottom lip trembled and Thranduil could tell she was putting on a brave front.

“Let’s get you a warm bath, it will help,” he said unwrapping her from his arms.

Amelina swallowed hard as he stepped from the bed, studying the lines of his long muscular body in the soft light. Thranduil was glad to see she did not recoil at the sight of him but quickly realized he had shredding her clothing.

He pulled one of his shirts from the closet and handed it to her. “I am going to have some clothing brought to you that will make you a little less conspicuous.” We should not to advertise that there is a faerie roaming the halls of Mirkwood. It would be best to have you blend in as much as possible.”

He watched her tentatively take the shirt, but she looked down clutching the sheet to her chest and a faint blush rose over her cheeks. He battled with himself for a moment, understanding after what had just transpired between them, he should allow her some modesty, but he wanted to make sure she was okay.

He had lost control of himself with her and he knew he had hurt her. He decided he would wait until they reached the baths to assess her condition, perhaps being in the water would ease her discomfort some and he turned his back to allow her privacy.

After waiting for her to dress for a considerable time, he turned. The shirt hung below her knees and the cuff of one sleeve dangled past her hand. She was standing with her back to him and in her other hand she held a flower from the arrangement on the bedside table. She was eating it. He smiled, but realized she had not eaten for some time and must be very hungry.

She seemed to sense he was watching her and she turned, the edge of a pink blossom stuck on the corner of her mouth. She wiped it away with the back of his shirt sleeve. “I want to smash it.’ She stated firmly. He did not miss the glow in her violet eyes when she said the words.

“The vase?” he asked, trying to hide his amusement.

“Yes, and maybe something else too. I want to smash some things.”

Thranduil nodded, suppressing a chuckle and made himself appear very serious. “You are upset, I understand. Let’s get you a bath and something to eat and then we will find an outlet for that anger.”

She eyed him warily, but the promise of food seemed to motivate her and when he held his hand out to her, she took it. Thranduil led her to the baths where they were met by an attendant. He requested warm towels as well as new clothing for Amelina, elven clothing. The attendant nodded, and Thranduil took her down to the poolside.

She looked at the water for a minute and then yanked a button from the shirt she was wearing. She tossed the button into the water, and stood on her tiptoes, leaning over to watch it sink to the bottom. Thranduil eyed her curiously, what a strange little creature she was. Seemingly satisfied, she placed a foot on the steps of the pool and then another until she was submerged to her shoulders. She kept the shirt on.

Thranduil opened his robe and let the silken garment slide to the floor, he waded into the pool behind her, sitting on the underwater ledge. He watched as Amelina dove and swam down to the bottom to retrieve the button before doing laps around the pool. He was momentarily stunned at how long she could hold her breath and how fast she could swim. So, she could fly and swim likes a fish, he wondered what other unknown talents she possessed.

She surfaced holding the button, looking rather pleased with herself as the attendant placed a tray of fruit next to Thranduil. He chose a peach and held it up for Amelina. She sucked on her bottom lip and paddled over to him, her eyes never leaving the fruit until she reached him. The water next to him was shallow enough for her to stand in. When she did look up at him, there was mistrust written on her face and Thranduil realized she was not certain he was going to give her the food.

He reached his offering out further and watched her raise her hand very slowly, as if she expected him to jerk it away at any moment. He tilted his head slightly. “It is okay Amelina, it is for you.” Once her fingers wrapped around the peach, she snapped it away quickly and retreated. She turned her back to him as if she was guarding it and devoured the entire fruit, including the pit.

When she was finished, she climbed up on the ledge next to where he sat, facing him with her legs tucked under her. She put the two shells of the split peach pit hull down on the rock, placing the button under one. She moved the two around, zigzagging them in and out and mixing them up.

“You have to find the button,” she said looking up at him and Thranduil smiled. It was at that moment he knew he was hopelessly lost to her charms. Her soaked hair clung to her face and her wet shirt left little to the imagination. He purposely picked the wrong shell and grinned at her delight in winning the game.

“Amelina, can I look at your injuries?” he asked quietly with concern. She bit at her bottom lip.

“I promise I will not touch you again unless you want me too, “he coaxed.

He was surprised when she moved to straddle him, holding herself up on her knees. She raised her hand to his mouth and ran her fingers over it before gently nudging a fingertip inside, finding the spot on his inner bottom lip where she had bit him. “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely before leaning in and giving him a quick, soft kiss.

Thranduil inhaled slowly, trying to get a handle on himself. Her innocent but intimate action had awakened the dragon inside him and he stifled a groan.

“You can touch me again, just not with that,” she said pointing between his legs but not looking down. It took Thranduil a few seconds to realize what she was saying and to register the fact that she was saying in with great gravitas and seriousness. At that point he could not hold it in any longer and he broke out laughing.

She hissed and anger flashed over her purple eyes. Thranduil caught her wrists before she could get away. “Do not be mad Lina,” he said still smiling, “I will only touch you the way you want me to,” he said pulling her in and bringing her lips to his.

The kiss was soft at first but soon she opened her mouth to him and it deepened. Still straddling him, her hands went up to touch his face before wandering to trace his finely pointed ears. When she backed away he did not try to stop her. He knew he would have to take things very slowly with her now. At least it appeared her anger had been subdued by the kiss.

“My Lord,” the servant interrupted apologetically.

“Yes.”

“There is a guard outside who says the Grey Wizard is here and is insisting the he must see you immediately.”

Looking at Amelina, Thranduil apologized. “I will send lunch for you and join you as soon as I can.”

She nodded and seemed appeased with the promise of lunch. She stared unabashedly as Thranduil climbed from the pool, water dripping from the ivory planes of his sculpted physique. He purposely took his time dressing in front of her, offering her a full view while she munched on an apple, appearing to be fascinated.

***

Thranduil tried to leave the thoughts of her behind him as he walked to his throne room to see what the wizard wanted. He forced the softness from his face and allowed his regal mask to transform his countenance.

The King nodded in greeting as he entered, appearing indifferent to his guest. Gandalf bowed his head in return, but studied him intently for a moment before speaking. “I understand you have a very special guest.”

“Yes,” Thranduil answered, revealing nothing.

“Thranduil, she will be in danger as long as you hold her here.”

“On the contrary Mithrandir, she is no longer in danger now that I have brought her here.”

“Do you have any idea what you are dealing with?” Gandalf exclaimed.

Thranduil poured two goblets of wine from a gilded decanter and handed one to the wizard.

“Admittedly, she is a handful, but faeries can be tamed, “Thranduil replied very calmly.

“Half faerie, Thranduil. She is only half faerie, and she is not just any faerie. She is the daughter of the High Faerie Queen, Titania.”

Thranduil froze, staring at Gandalf in disbelief, his eyes widening.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience, my apologies for the delay.

_Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger._  
_J. R. R. Tolkien_

 

Thranduil slowly began to recover himself. “Half faerie? Who then is her Father?”

Gandalf took a deep sigh before answering.

***

The dwarfs attempted to plead their case with Legolas. The fae was their property and they had the papers to prove it.

“What are you, Orcs?” She is a living, breathing, intelligent creature, she belongs to no one. Your claim that she is property only reinforces my Father’s position that she should remain here under his protection,” Legolas asserted.

“Have you seen the way the King looks at her lad? Perhaps she would be better protected with her rightful owner.”

Legolas rolled his eyes, although the red haired dwarf had a point. He would be arguing her plight to his Father much in the same manner he was now arguing it to the dwarf’s. The faerie should not be held as anyone’s slave or prisoner.

“You are free to leave Mirkwood, I suggest you take advantage of the opportunity lest the King change his mind and decide to hold you in the dungeon indefinitely. The fae will remain in these halls under my Father’s protection.”

Legolas gave the order for Tauriel to assemble a company to escort the dwarf’s out of Mirkwood. He needed to stay put in order to speak with his Father about the faerie and to find out why Gandalf was paying the Woodland King a visit today. Legolas was anxious to see Gandalf. Without a doubt, he would have preferred to be with Tauriel, but the situation as it was simply would not allow him that pleasure on this day.

He smiled to himself though, Tauriel was pleased that he trusted her to lead a company on her own and see the dwarf’s safely on their way. He watched her walk away with her shoulders held high, enamored by the Prince’s confidence in her abilities.

Turning from her, he was surprised to see Amelina coming down the hallway with only a servant in tow wearing the clothing of an elf. Had he not known who she was, he might have mistaken her for a young elf maiden who had not quite yet reached her full height.

He bowed to her as she approached and she smiled at him. Immediately he understood his Father’s predicament. The fae was stunningly beautiful with shimmering metallic hair of gold and copper and brilliant violet eyes. She was slender but curvy, a seductive combination. She was absolutely engaging, the way she looked at him, as if there was nobody else in the world. He could not find it within himself to draw his eyes away from her.

She looked curiously at his weapon and the quiver holding the arrows on his back. “Are you an archer?” Her eyes glowed even more brightly when she asked. 

Legolas nodded in the affirmative, finding himself speechless.

“Will you teach me?” her voice held the excitement of a child.

“If you wish,” he replied not quite sure why he felt such desire to honor her request.

“Now?” she said, clapping her hands.

Legolas smiled and bowed, unable to say no given her enthusiasm.

“Please tell me Father I am waiting for him at the range,” Legolas said to the servant who gave him a quirky smile.

“Yes My Lord.”

“You have very beautiful eyes, like his,” she said as Legolas walked down the corridor with Amelina by his side. He grinned at her slightly embarrassed by the thoughts that crossed he mind standing this close to her. She was eerily both young and very gown up and her voice held a musical quality that was almost hypnotic.

***

Thranduil took off his long robes before heading out to find Legolas and Amelia. The day was warm and there was no cause for formalities He was surprised to hear Legolas had taken her to the range, but relieved his son had taken charge and had seen to the dismissal of the dwarf’s. He had enough to worry about now after talking to the wizard. Gandalf followed him, anxious to see the Princess faerie that now that he had confirmed her presence in Mirkwood.

The spectacle they came upon was not what either one expected. Over a dozen archers stood watching as Amelina stood in a perfect stance, her weight distributed evenly on both feet, her spine straight and aligned. She wore a bracer on her right arm over her long, green elven tunic. Everyone grew quiet as she drew back the arrow to the anchor point on her cheek. Legolas stood by her side, giving her instructions. Her arrow flew, it was a clean release and cheers came up from the crowd as it hit the red center of the target. Legolas beamed at her as she jumped up and down.

Suddenly she stilled and turned, he eyes falling directly upon Thranduil’s. It was as if she had sensed his presence. Legolas and Gandalf watched curiously as the two focused on each other in an intense gaze.

Gandalf felt a sinking in his belly, realizing that getting the faerie out of Mirkwood was going to be far more difficult than he first thought. It would not be a simple matter of convincing the King to give up his new bounty. Thranduil obviously had feelings for her, a twist Gandalf never could have predicted. Furthermore, although there was certainly some trepidation on the countenance of the faerie as she stared at Thranduil, it appeared she had feelings for him as well.

“Amelina,” Gandalf said extending his walking stick with each step he took toward her. She reluctantly took her eyes from Thranduil to peer at the strange looking man in grey with the pointy hat. There was something familiar about him but Amelina was not sure what. “The last time I saw you, you were no taller than a hobbit and in pigtails.”

Amelina grinned, she did not remember the man but she liked his sparkling eyes and his warmth that stood in stark contrast to Thranduil’s cool refined demeanor.

“My dear, I am Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey and I knew your Mother.” Amelina smiled brightly at the mention of her Mother. She hoped she would have more time with this odd stranger, she wanted to hear about her Mother. Her memories were vague and often brought up overwhelming feelings of grief and loss. Sometimes she forced all thoughts of her Mother from her mind just so she would not have to feel the accompanying sadness.

“Hello Master Gandalf, “the faerie said bowing her head slightly.

“I trust the King has made your stay here comfortable?” Amelina gulped and her eyes darted back to Thranduil. Comfortable was not a word she would use to describe her time in Mirkwood. She felt the tingling sensation she experienced every time she looked into the King’s liquid blue eyes traveling through her. She wanted both to run to him and away from him. Instead, she stood with her feet planted firmly on the ground and nodded at the wizard.

“Good,” Gandalf said, although his tone indicated he did not trust that Amelina was telling him the truth. It was clear that there was electricity arching between the Princess and the King, but Gandalf could see her apprehension.

“Gandalf!” The wizard turned to the familiar voice.

“Legolas Greenleaf!” he said beaming. As the two exchanged greetings and pleasantries, Amelina walked slowly to Thranduil. Seeing her hesitation, he held out his hand to her. Taking a deep breath, she let his big hand envelop her small one as he led her away from the group. He was quiet and he looked at her strangely several times but said nothing.

“Are you okay Amelina?” he asked when he had found a secluded spot under a tree. The concern in Thranduil’s voice relaxed her frayed nerves some and she nodded staring at the ground. Thranduil lifted her chin and looked at her questioningly. He did not get the chance to check her over earlier and he was still worried that he had hurt her.

“I’m okay,” she said softly but her eyes looked tired and she staggered, losing her balance as she craned her neck up to meet his eyes. Thranduil’s arm darted out to her waist to steady her.

“Did you eat?” Amelina looked confused for moment and she crinkled her nose.

“I had a peach, remember?”

“Yes, but let us go find you something more substantial Princess. “ He kissed her lightly on the forehead and began leading her back to the halls anxious to get her fed and rested. Something about her seemed to be increasingly fragile and he knew the past couple of days had taken a heavy toll her despite her bright personality.

As they neared the entryway, the sound of horse hooves traveling fast approached them. Tauriel’s long red hair swayed over her shoulders as she rounded the bend “My Lord, we are under attack, an Ocr party has breached the gate!” she shouted.


	12. Chapter 12

_“How should we be able to forget those ancient myths that are at the beginning of all peoples, the myths about dragons that at the last moment turn into princesses; perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave. Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us._  
_Rainer Maria Rilke_

 

Thranduil began barking orders in elvish. Amelina could not understand what he was saying, not that she would have understood if she knew his language anyway. A dark shadow had begun to cloud her mind and her head was starting to pound. The sound was loud in her ears, a reverberating whoosh, as if the wings of a giant vulture were pumping in the confines of her skull. It was the eye, it was searching for her and it was close. She cried out in pain, clutching her head and fell to her knees.

Thranduil was busy calling up a defensive attack on the Orc’s that had breached his gate and he missed Amelina’s initial distress. It was not until she was on the ground, sobbing, that he realized something was happening to her. As he knelt and put his arm around her, Legolas and Gandalf appeared. Gandalf went right to the faerie.

“We must get her inside Thranduil, she is not safe out here!” The King scooped Amelina into his arms, remembering his earlier conversation with the wizard. He nodded to Legolas to take command while he and the Gandalf raced Amelina to the inside the cover of the caves.

Thranduil laid her on his bed, helplessly watching the purple tears spill from her tightly clenched eyes. This was no nightmare, she was wide awake and walking when this episode began. Was it possible the wizard was right, that this was no ordinary faerie?

Gandalf wrapped his hands around Amelina’s head and began chanting. His warm, rhythmic voice reached into her mind. The whooshing sound diminished and the pain began to fade. The eye and its heat grew more and more distant. With each passing moment, Amelina visibly relaxed. Gandalf continued to work on her until it appeared she had fallen into a deep sleep.

It was only then that Thranduil left her with the wizard, and a substantial number of his best guards, and went to join his forces. It was true, the forest had turned into a bleak abode and the darkness was rising. But the arrival of the faerie, or rather the half faerie, had caused a deeper disturbance in Mirkwood.

Thranduil pondered the wizard’s request as he drew his sword. Gandalf wanted to take her away. He had argued she had been successfully hidden for decades. Yet Gandalf was seemingly at a loss to explain how Amelina had almost been ravaged by a repulsive and corrupt human at the edge of the river flowing through the lands of the Woodland elves. If she was a being of such significance, as Gandalf was suggesting, why had she had been left alone, untrained, naive and easy prey to the dark forces that were seeking to exploit her?

Thranduil was certain Gandalf and his fellow wizards were ill equipped to protect her. Spells and incantations might temporarily alleviate her troubled mind, but Gandalf had no army at his command to ward off the forces that were coming after her, if indeed that was what was happening. Regardless of the wizard’s pleas, Thranduil was not about to let him take her away. 

This attack on Mirkwood was more bold and substantial than the other recent Orc incursions had been. Nonetheless, Thranduil was not convinced this was entirely due to the presence of the faerie. Gandalf had spoken of vendettas and the Dark Lord, yet the faerie had come into Mirkwood completely unwatched and unprotected and had apparently been held in a cage for many years by a dwarf. How could she be who Gandalf was suggesting she was?

Regardless of her heritage and regardless of what forces were trying to acquire her, Thranduil was not going to let her go. She belonged to the King now. He would not trade her, he would not sell her and he would not let anyone hurt her.

The Orc troops were many, but by attacking at the gate, the elven forces were able to meet the assault with equal numbers. Once the King arrived, the last of them were finished off in quick order. Thranduil had only to slay six Orc’s and the battle was over.

“I think it is time to interrogate the Orc prisoner Legolas,” Thranduil said as his son bounded from the top of the wall, landing at the King’s side. Legolas treated his Father with the proper decorum while in the presence of the other soldiers. It was not until he was alone with him that he could let the mask fall and relax. Well, maybe not completely relax. His Father was not the warm fuzzy type. Still, Thranduil was his Father first and his King second. Legolas nodded and fell into step at Thranduil's right side.

As they headed into the palace Legolas asked, “Why do they want her Father?”

“I am not certain, perhaps the prisoner can shed some light on that.”

“What does Gandalf say?”

“He is full of his usual dire warnings should she fall into the hands of the dark forces.”

“She can fly, and did you see her arrow hit its mark Ada?”

“Yes, Legolas, you instructed her well.”

“Perhaps, yet it would seem that she was able to influence its path, as if she could bend the wind.”

Thranduil’s pace slowed as he heard his son’s words and his face grew stoic.”

“Ada?”

“Let us see what the Orc in our dungeons has to say, shall we?”

Entering the caves of the palace, Legolas ordered the sentry to bring the Orc prisoner to the King’s throne room. Once there, Thranduil  poured himself a long draw of Dorwinion wine, offering but a sip in a goblet to his son.

“My Lord,” the guard addressed the King, but bowed to Thranduil and then again to Legolas as he entered with the drooling Orc in chains. Legolas responded.

“Thank you, that will be all,” he said, dismissing the guard. It was unlikely, knowing his Father’s temper and his feelings for the faerie, that the Orc would be requiring an escort back to the prisons or anywhere else. Legolas understood that most likely, the Orc would be leaving as carrion for the crows.

“Tell me, what is it you seek?” Thranduil asked of the sniveling Orc. The grey, hairless creature made a few snorts, sounding much like a stuck pig before answering.

“My Master is The One.”

“Yes,” Thranduil’s voice was oddly soothing, “Speak freely and your life will be spared, you have nothing to fear. Why did you enter my lands?”

“My Master wants her, the fae.”

“For what purpose?” Thranduil asked, sounding oddly unconcerned.

The Orc laughed, but choked and sputtered. Thranduil waited patiently for the creature to recover himself enough to answer the question.

“She is a fine morsel, I believe he intends to eat her heart.”

Thranduil spun around facing the Orc with his hand on the sheath of his sword. “Why?” he demanded.

“To devour her heart is gain her to power, and, she looks magically delicious,” he said grinning and licking his lips. A globule of darkened drool dribbled down his chin.

The quicksilver sound of Thranduil’s blade cutting through the air happened so fast, the Orc did not even register his impending death. His decapitated head thumped on the floor and rolled twice. Legolas threw his arms up in the air. “Now we will never know why they want her!” he said accusingly to his Father.

“I know why Legolas,” Thranduil said sternly as he turned to his son. “We must protect her at all cost. No one enters or departs but by my leave. Double the guards at the gate, increase the border patrols,” Thranduil ordered, swishing his sword through the air in several powerful arcs, causing the Orc blood to shear off the metal before returning it to its hilt.

Thranduil left Legolas standing in the throne room to carry out his orders as he went to Amelina.

***

Gandalf sat in a chair by the bed, deep in thought when Thranduil entered his bedchamber. The faerie’s head was propped up on two pillows but her eyes were closed, her hands crossed over her midsection. She appeared peaceful in her slumber, but her pallor was blueish and her lips pale. Thranduil looked at her worriedly.

“Thranduil, this is madness, you must let me take her.”

“No!,” Thranduil shouted and Amelina stirred. The King immediately was at her side.

“Leave us,” Thranduil hissed under his breath.

Gandalf sighed, pulling up on his staff as he rose. He walked slowly out of the room, pausing at the doorway. Turning, he watched Thranduil caressing the faerie and speaking to her in hushed tones. It had been many centuries since he had seen the great Elvenking behave in such a manner. Maybe it was not such a bad thing. After all, the last time he saw Thranduil like this was when Legolas was brought into this world.


	13. Chapter 13

_The cure for all ills and wrongs, the cares, the sorrows and the crimes of humanity, all lie in the one word 'love.' It is the divine vitality that everywhere produces and restores life._

_Lydia M Child_

 

Thranduil spoke softly to Amelina trying to soothe her back into rest, but her eyes fluttered and opened. What he saw alarmed him. The usual sparkle he saw in her violet irises was gone and there appeared to be bluish bruises under her red rimmed eyes. A wave of regret swept over him. Her time with him had not been easy and his treatment of her had taken its toll.

“Lina, are you alright?’ She nodded her head but did not say anything.

“Are you in pain?” he asked, remembering he never had gotten the chance to check over her injuries.

“Not much.” Thranduil recalled that was the same answer she had given him after she had been attacked by the human when in truth, she had been badly hurt.

“What would you like to eat,” he said knowing she had missed several meals with all of the recent events.

“I’m not hungry,” her voice was quiet and weak. Thranduil was now very concerned. She had been practically starving when she arrived and he had not seen her turn down food once during her time in Mirkwood. In fact, he often found her eating flowers out of the palace arrangements.

Leaning in, Thranduil pressed his lips lightly against hers. “I am sorry Amelina, tell me what to do to help you.”

“I’m dying,” she replied with resignation.

“What do you mean?” his voice was suddenly harsh.

“I have to go.”

“Go where Amelina?”

“To be with my Mother and my brother.”

“What makes you say you are dying?” Her eyes darted up to his and a look of fear crossed her face. His voice had grown hard and too loud. Realizing he had frightened her, he immediately softened.

“It’s okay, I did not mean to scare you, it’s okay.” He leaned forward and enveloped her in his arms.

“What is wrong Lina, why do you think you are dying?”

“He got me, the Orc got me real bad.”

Thranduil moved back and took her face in his hands, “The day you ran away?” he asked softly.

Amelina nodded. Thranduil searched his memory. He had been with her, he had hurt he after he had rescued her from the Orc’s. He had not checked her over since then but he had not seen any negligible wounds on her body the night he had….taken her.

“Where Lina, where did he get you?”

“On my back.” Her eyes dropped from his.

Remembering the events that transpired after the Orc attack, Thranduil realized he had seen every part of her body except for her back after the Orc had captured her. His hands immediately went to the stays on her elven tunic. She reached up with a gasp to stop him.

“Lina, you have to let me see. It is okay I will not hurt you,” he coaxed, gently pulling her hands to her sides. He resumed untying her laces. She dipped her head and would not look up.

“Lift up your arms princess.” She obeyed, but he saw her wince, the movement caused her pain. He gently peeled the tunic over her head as quickly as he could, letting her arms fall back down. Her pale pallor pinked as he exposed her bare skin.

Thranduil visibly cringed as he saw the angry bite mark on her nipple. He had punished her with this for biting his lip, but the tiny sore on the inside of his mouth was nothing compared to the marks he had left on her delicate body. His hand instinctively reached up to touch the wound.

“Oh Lina, I am sorry,” he whispered, his voice was husky and pained.

Amelina’s body responded to his touch. She lifted her head, bringing her lips next to his and her nipple peaked under his caress. Thranduil refrained from kissing her, as much as he wanted to. He leaned his forehead against hers and moved away her arms that were trying to wrap around his neck in.

“I need to see your back first princess,” he murmured. “Turn over for me Lina.”

Reluctantly, Amelina turned over, resting her belly against the soft mattress. She heard the King’s sharp intake of air.

For a moment, Thranduil could not focus. There was a gash extending from just below her shoulder blades to the middle of her back. It was bright red but that was not the worst of it. The skin around it was puffed and black. Over a third of her back was discolored and swollen. Thranduil had seen many Orc scratches but he had never seen a wound like this.

“Amelina, were you cut by a weapon?” His first thought was that she had been slashed by a poisoned blade.

“No, it was his fingerclaw.”

“Why did you not tell me you were hurt?”

“I was scared. You were really mad. It does not matter, I cannot survive being cut by Mairon or one of his dogs.”

Thranduil’s mind reeled. _Mairon_. It was a name he had not heard since the First Age, when he was but a young lad, a name that was abhorrent and brought forth dread. How did she know that name?

Amelina lifted herself up on her elbows and turned her head up to look at the King. “I am scared to die but I think it will be okay because my Mom and my brother will be there. I was glad I had been scratched when I saw my new cage. It is better this way.”

“Lina, you are not going to die, I will not let you die.”

“I cannot go back to a cage alone, not without my brother.”

Thranduil felt as though his heart had been torn loose and was sinking in his chest. “Amelina, I will not put you in a cage.”

“But I cannot survive anyway. There is nothing green here to eat. There is no sunlight and no water, and my brother is gone.”

“What?”

Amelina just stared at him blinking. There was a long moment of silence and she swallowed hard.

“Amelina, are you thirsty?”

“Yes, but there is no fresh water here and the pool water makes me sick.”

Thranduil cursed under his breath, he had no idea how to care for a faerie, what she needed to eat or drink to survive. He had not bothered to ask, he had just assumed the wine, fruit and other offerings he had given her were enough. Now that he thought about it, she had been making do on nothing but fruit, flower petals and wine.

She was already weakened, hungry and badly injured when she had arrived at his door. He had done nothing but add insult to her injuries and he had failed to provide her with the essentials she needed to exist. Now it appeared she had a mortal wound and her body had no reserves to fight it. Nor did it appear she wanted to fight it, she missed her loved ones and Thranduil had done little more than threaten to cage her.

Perhaps Gandalf was right, maybe he needed to let her go. Could Gandalf save her? Thranduil doubted it. But he knew someone who could.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, as in my previous story, I have intentionally made the paragraphs short for easier screen reading. Long paragraphs do not always lend themselves well to mobile devices.

_What is Elven healing? That's as hard a question to answer as, "what is Elf-magic?" or "what are Elf spells?" The Elves don't understand what I mean by magic, but they capture living light in gems, or walk on snow without sinking, or see glimpses of the future or far-off places in stones and pools. Some insist that their power doesn't come from spells, yet I know there's a charm for staunching blood that was old when Lúthien sang it. No more does an archer's ability to shoot come from the bow itself, but to one who lacks the skill, bow and archery alike seem magical indeed._  
_Tinw of Imladris_

Legolas watched as Tauriel walked to him, limping. She diverted her eyes and lowered her head. “The dwarfs were escorted out safely My Lord, we came upon the Orc’s when we returned.” Legolas could see the distress in her eyes. Her company had been the first to encounter the Orcs who attacked at the palace gates. She had successfully held them at bay until Legolas arrived with reinforcements.

“What is it Tauriel?” he asked, sensing something was wrong. Her chocolate brown eyes met the icy blue ones staring at her.  
Legolas felt increasingly uncomfortable as she slowly approached. “I…. I was clipped by an arrow.” Her eyes dropped to her feet.

“Tauriel, are you okay,” his voice was filled with alarm. She was unsteady and he went to her, placing an arm at her waist. It was unusual, he seldom touched her like this. She leaned into him.

“I’m sorry, My Lord, I failed you, they were many and we were few,” she whispered as she fell.

Legolas caught her in his arms and dropped to his knees. “Tauriel!” His eyes traveled to her thigh where her leggings were ripped and blood seeped out, turning the dark green fabric black.

“It is my fault Tauriel, I should not have sent you into danger. I am sorry I did not get there sooner.” He tenderly caressed her cheek before reaching down and tearing the fabric from her leg to examine the wound. Legolas tried to hide his concern.

"It will be okay, Tauriel, you are going to be alright.” He hoped his voice did not convey the dread that was seeping through him. The wound was deep, the poison would already be flowing through her bloodstream.

***

Thranduil called for the attendant to bring salads, nuts and fresh water to his room, and for a healer.

“Amelina, we will need to travel soon, I know someone who can help make you well.” He said brushing a lock of hair from her eyes. “You must eat, you must be well enough to travel.” Her attention was diverted to the door as the servant rolled in a cart of food. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of the luscious, green leaves of the salads. 

Thranduil stood and poured her a glass of fresh cool water and handed it to her. Her hand shook as she tried to grasp it and he helped her bring the edge of the cup to her mouth. She immediately started gulping and finished the entire glass in just a few seconds.

The attendant made a plate with samplings from each of the four salads. Spinach, kale, green and red leaf lettuces adorned her plate along with walnuts, brazil nuts, almonds and some sort of grain. As the tray was brought to her, she stared in disbelief. 

Thranduil’s heart ached as he watched her tentatively take a large leaf in her fingers and begin to nibble. He wished he would have been more attentive to her needs and to her wounds. He was responsible for her being in this deplorable condition and he felt ashamed.

It appeared she did not know how to use the silverware and she fingered the ornate silver spoon with a reverence that made Thranduil smile. He would not even consider the possibility that she would not heal, he would move mountains to see her restored to full health.

Leaving her with the attendant, he left to find Legolas. His son would need to take charge while the King took Amelina from Mirkwood and that would not be easy. Thranduil had full confidence in his son despite the threats facing his Kingdom.

The grim mission would be transporting Amelina out of Mirkwood safely. Thranduil did not want to be conspicuous, but at the same time, he needed to take a full escort to assure her safety. And, he would need to speak with the wizard regarding his plan.

Thranduil was surprised to find that Legolas was not on duty. “My Lord, he is in his chambers. Tauriel has been wounded.”  
“Wounded? Is she hurt badly?” Thranduil's face did not betray the panic he felt.

“The wound did not appear mortal My Lord, but the arrow was laced with poison.”

Thranduil turned on his heel rushing to his son’s room. He had promised Tauriel’s Mother he would protect her. Now, he had put her in harm’s way because of the faerie. He tried to reason with himself that she and Legolas were always in harm’s way as members of the guard, but he knew that the arrival of the faerie had caused a disturbance that had put his entire Kingdom in danger.

Thranduil entered Legolas’ bed chamber. The young elf’s hands covered Tauriel’s bared thigh. His eyes were closed and he was chanting a healing spell he had learned from his Father. Thranduil placed his hand on Legolas shoulder. Opening his eyes, Legolas looked up, his expression pained. Thranduil moved him away and placed his hands on Tauriel’s leg, pressing his fingers deeply into her flesh.

Relieved, he looked at Legolas, “Continue, she will be okay.”

Legolas tried to remain stoic in his Father’s presence, but Thranduil was well aware of the change in his son as his words reassured him that Tauriel would survive this. The King would need to caution Tauriel, once again, when she recovered, that she was a lowly Sylvan elf and not a suitable match for the Prince.

He hated the heartbreak he saw in her eyes when he told her this and he understood. Her hurt was not entirely for Legolas, it was that her King did not consider her worthy. It was unfair to her, he clearly thought highly of her, showed her his favor and watched over her like a hawk. She saw him for the Father he was to her. It pained her deeply to know he did not consider her a suitable match for his son, but she did not know nothing could be further from the truth. He loved her.

Thranduil had thought keeping them together would be a good thing, they were, after all, siblings. He did not foresee the passion that had recently flared between them. He needed to provide a distraction for Legolas, one more worthy than the endless parade of beauties that were pushed upon his son by hopeful parents. Legolas required an elleth of substance, beauty was secondary.

Tauriel did not lack admirers, but she was one of few ellith to have been elevated to such a high position. Most ellyn found her intimidating even though Thranduil had not missed a single one who had looked upon her with desire. He had not encouraged any of them, however. None, in his mind, had seemed good enough for her.

Thranduil left the room, but ordered both an attendant and a healer to be sent to Legolas’ room. He did not want them left alone. He would be taking Tauriel with him under the guise of her needing healing in order to prevent something occurring between his children during his absence. He called for Gandalf to be sent to his chambers. He would wait until the plans were made to inform Legolas of their impeding departure. For now, he needed to return to Amelina.

He entered his room to find the healer working with her. The expression on the face of the ellyn was grave. He met the King’s eyes and shook his head. It was not what Thranduil wanted to see, but he knew her wound would require more than anyone in Mirkwood could provide and the thought of losing her was far too devastating to even consider.

Looking at her tray, he was glad to see she had eaten, not as much as he would have hoped, but she did eat. It appeared from the amount of liquid left in the decanter, she had relied more heavily on the water than the food. He knew that faeries did not eat meat but he ordered the healer to go to his library to study the nutritional requirements for faeries as well as any medical journals that might provide insights as to how to treat her. He planned to leave first thing in the morning, but any knowledge they could glean before they left might help.

Thranduil went to her and he replaced the healer’s hands with his own. She responded instantly to his touch. Her skin was hot, the infection burned against his fingers. She lifted herself to turn to him.

“Shhhhhh little one, let me work on you.”

“I …I need you to hold me.”

Thranduil let her turn over and he wrapped his arms around her, returning his hands gently to the wound that now encompassed most of her back. He leaned into her, lying them both down on the bed as she curled against his chest. Her heart was beating fast and erratic but he listened in wonder as her breathing began to fall into step with his. As she pressed her bare chest to his, he felt her fluttering heart begin to calm and gradually slow to beat in exact rhythm with his. After a moment, the inflamed skin beneath his fingertips began to cool slightly.

Amelina breathed a contented sigh, He could feel the heat and tension leaving her. Her entire body relaxed against his.  
“That feels better,” she said lifting her face to him.

***

Gandalf cleared his throat. The King had summoned him to his personal chambers but he was lying in bed with a half-naked fae.

“Mithrandir,” Thranduil said unapologetically, “We must take Amelina to Lothlórien. She is wounded. We leave in the morning.”

Gandalf stepped into the room and walked around the bed. He blanched and looked aghast at the faerie's back. His hands joined Thranduil’s, tracing over her blackened skin lending his own magick.

“Let us hope we are not too late,” he whispered.


	15. Chapter 15

_Where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise._

_[T](http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/t/thomas_gray.html)homas Gray_

 

Amelina felt herself slipping in and out of a dream. Everything was hot. The water helped, but the fire was in her blood and she burned from the inside out. It had been getting worse and worse. The only thing that helped was him. She was fire, he was ice.

It was difficult to fight, she longed to be with her brother and her mother. She had hid those feelings away in a box deep in the recesses of her mind. Now that she was sick, it was hard to keep the lid on that box. She felt drawn to it, drawn to the darkness, it called to her like the Enchanted River had called her.

Drifting, she found herself in the meadow again, her lungs heavy and her breathing hard as the air filled with smoke. Her eyes stung and tiny petals of fiery ash fell on her skin leaving red welts. Her brother Phineas was gripping her arm. They ran, but whatever direction they turned, they were met by walls of fire that gushed up from the ground and lashed at the sky, blocking their escape.

A deafening boom, followed by an agonizingly slow ripping sound cut through the air. Phin was in the path of a burning limb that had broken from the tree towering above them. He saw it coming and was able to dodge the worst of it. His leg, however, was clipped and injured. He was cut and burnt quite badly. “Run Eli, Run!” he shouted at her.

It was then that it happened. She stood and began moving her body while staying inside a small circle she had mentally drawn in the dirt.  As she gained momentum, she called forth a powerful wind. Once unleashed, it extinguished the wall of flames in front of them allowing her and her limping brother to escape. How she did this, she did not know, she was as surprised as Phineas was.

As they fled from the smoldering meadow that had been their home, her mind reeled with fear. She remembered her Mother clearly then and the promise she had made. “My daughter, the power within you must stay locked away. It is dangerous, it will destroy you and everyone you love.”

Her Mother was dying when Amelina promised her she would forget who she was and what she could do. She had kept that promise. The memories were gone, except for the memory of her Mother’s death, blood trickling from the corners of her mouth as she told her daughter to flee and to hide herself.

That day she had been given her new name, Amelina. She had been called by a different name until then, one she no longer recalled. It was forgotten like everything else. She promised her Mother she would stay with Phineas and he vowed to protect her.

The knowledge that she had accessed something forbidden inside herself, something she had promised to forget, and right after that Phineas had been killed in an Orc attack, haunted her dreams and filled her with guilt. She had broken her promise to Mother and Phin had died.

She had not made a conscious decision to do what she did, it just happened. She had no idea she could even do something like that. But now, images, perhaps memories, were beginning to seep out from the dark corners they had been locked tightly away in.

With the infection running through her body and the fever, everything was scrambled, disordered and mixed with the horror of losing her brother. When she closed her eyes, she saw a being cloaked in black, reaching out for her. She watched her Mother stepping between them. As his blade sliced through her Mother, her pained face morphed into Phin’s face as the Orc arrow pierced his side.

Thranduil felt her body shudder in his arms. They would be leaving at the first light of morning but the moon was still high as she began to sir. Her cheeks were damp with purple tears. “No, No…I’m sorry, No!”

There was a shift in the air in the room as she cried out in her sleep. His voice was tender and pacifying as he roused her from her nightmare. “It is okay Lina, it is just a dream. I have you. You are okay.”

“I……I killed him,” she choked out.

“Who?”

“Phin, my brother,” she managed in broken sobs.

“Amelina, my guards found his body on the shore of the river, he was clearly killed by Orcs. It is just a bad dream.”

“No, no, I broke my promise, that is why he died.”

“What promise Lina?”

“I promised to forget, but I keep remembering.”

Confused by her confession Thranduil gently stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. She needed to rest. “Lina, it is not your fault.” He cradled her in his arms and rocked her, questioning his decision to wait until morning to leave.

If what Gandalf said was true, then the brother she spoke of was not her brother. He had been her sentry and his death was precipitating the memory of a childhood trauma. Her dark past was coming back to her. He needed for that not to happen now. It was too much stress given her condition.

Thranduil leaned up and poured a glass of water from the decanter at the bedside.

“Amelina, I need you to drink princess,” he said, placing a hand behind the back of her head and gently pulling her up. He brought the cool liquid to her dried lips and she drank much to his relief.

“Master?”

“Amelina, I am not your master.” There was a long moment of silence.

“Lina, I am a King, a master by trade, but you have been the master of my heart from the moment I saw you.”

She blinked in the darkness but he could see the soft glow of her eyes. A gentle breeze rushed passed him. She looked down. “I’m sorry, that keeps happening.”

“I know princess, it is okay,” he said brushing his lips over hers.

***

Legolas paced in his room. He wanted time alone with Tauriel, but his father had ordered her to be under the constant watch of a healer. The King was taking her away at dawn’s fist light and leaving him alone to take charge of Mirkwood. Tauriel was healing. There was no need for her to travel with the King and the faerie. The trip would be hard on her, it would be days before she was strong and weeks before she had fully recovered.

With each passing moment, his discontent with his Father grew.


	16. Chapter 16

_“There are no happy endings... There are no endings, happy or otherwise. We all have our own stories which are just part of the one Story that binds both this world and Faerie. Sometimes we step into each others stories - perhaps just for a few minutes, perhaps for years - and then we step out of them again. But all the while, the Story just goes on.”_  
_―[Charles de Lint](http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8185168.Charles_de_Lint)[  
](http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/14299464)_

 

Amelina leaned against his hard, broad chest. The rhythmic pace of the horse had lulled her into sleep, she had no idea how long they had been traveling. His arm was wrapped protectively around her waist, holding her securely against him.

She gazed up at him intently. His eyes canvassed their surroundings. She could feel the tension in his muscles. He was poised like an animal, ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation. He was a warrior and she could feel his raw power through the fine silk of his shirt. His scent was invigorating, like that of the forest.

She fixated upon his cerulean blue eyes. They were strikingly beautiful, she could stare at them for hours. The sculpted lines of his face were accented by the light and shadows of the forest. Sensing her eyes on him, Thranduil tipped his head down and was surprised at the ardent desire he saw in her. He was pleased, she must be feeling better to be entertaining such carnal desires. The edges of his lips curled up in amusement.

She swallowed hard and he called the company to a halt, ordering water to be brought for her. Amelina looked around, embarrassed that everyone had stopped for her, but she accepted the water and drank thirstily. Her sickened body craved water.

“Are you hungry Lina?” he asked, as if there were no one else and the world could stop to attend to her slightest whim.

‘No,” she answered softly, but she lit up when he pulled a ripe peach seemingly from nowhere. He grinned as she took it eagerly and he urged his horse forward at an easy pace, allowing her to enjoy the juicy fruit.

“Once you are well Lina, I will satisfy your every hunger, your every thirst,” he murmured in her ear before covering her lips with his and sucking off the lingering stickiness of the peach juice. She breathed heavily and squirmed. Thranduil reluctantly released her mouth and pulled her head back to his chest, his eyes returning to patrol their surroundings for any threats.

Amelina lifted her hand and ran it over the cool fabric of his shirt feeling the well-defined pectoral muscles underneath. She felt his shaft growing hard beneath her bottom at her touch and she sighed. Despite her arousal, she was soon drifting back into sleep. She was very weak and the slightest exertion exhausted her.

She was awakened abruptly by shouts and she rubbed her sleepy eyes. Alarmed, she felt Thranduil springing into action under her. “Hold on Lina,” he said gruffly in her ear, slipping her off his lap and spreading her legs to straddle the horse. He gave the beast a command in elvish and handed Amelina the reins “Stay down!” His voice was hard. He was giving her an order, not making a request.

The horse ignored her grip on the reins and took her to the cover of the brush on the side of the path. The steed bent first one foreleg, then the other, before lying down, concealing the faerie in the bushes. Amelina slipped off his back and bobbed her head until she found an opening to peer through. Her heart was racing. The stench of Orcs permeated through the smell of the lush, green moss covering the forest floor.

She watched her master command his troops. They were greatly outnumbered, but Thranduil moved boldly, with the confidence of the long line of Kings he descended from. He was deadly in his precision. Wielding two blades simultaneously, he sliced through the throngs of the enemy falling upon them, always in front of the other soldiers.

The Ors focused on him, they came straight for him from all directions. She felt fear grip her heart as he leaned to the side, narrowly avoiding the glint of steel slashing wildly at his torso. The Orc was no match for the legendary warrior and Amelina breathed a sigh of relief as the beast fell to the ground, its head separated from its still twitching body.

The sounds piercing the air hurt Amelina’s ears, the Orcs made terrible screaming noises. She heard the high pitch squeal of the one attacking Thranduil. The King’s blade sliced through its arm, leaving it flopping, held only by a bloody string. The Orc staggered and fell to the ground, its yellowed, blood shot eyes still open as its lifeblood seeped into the dirt.

Amelina’s stomach roiled. The stench of filth and death was overpowering and the sounds made her skin crawl. Her thoughts began to whirl and images started to appear, images of when she was a child surrounded by the same dark, foul creatures. In those memories, Thranduil was not there and she watched helplessly as her family and her friends fell, one after another, during the lethal, unexpected attack in the faerie gardens of the past. She remembered being forbidden to help.

An green cast Orc bounded forward, coming straight at her. The King’s blade caught him in the stomach and he pitched and plummeted to his death.  Amelina obediently remained hunched and still under the cover of the tall foliage surrounding her, her body quaking as unwanted memories continued to surface in her mind.

An angry, but decidedly female howl startled her, splintering the pictures in her head. She peeked up through the blades of tall grass to see the red haired elleth, the one who was wounded like her, in the grasp of a goblin. The beast who had her was larger than the Orcs, it’s biceps stood out like humps on it’s huge, flexing arms that clasped the elleth’s throat in a death grip. The goblin’s razor sharp, blackened teeth showed through a triumphant grin, his eyes fixed hungrily upon his prey.

“Tauriel!” the King shouted. Amelina could see he would not get to her in time. He was too far away, too far away because he was protecting her. She could not let the elleth die for her. The red haired captain had disobeyed the King's orders and had come from her safe place to fight alongside the guards, but she was wounded and weak.

Thranduil ran toward the struggling elleth and the mammoth goblin. Amelia watched Tauriel’s eyes roll back in her head as she tried to take in vital air but could not. Amelina stood. The King’s stallion whinnied in protest to her brash move, but he rose, standing bravely at the faerie's side. Amelina began spinning her arm rapidly, she bent her elbow, bringing it back behind her. She thrusted her arm forward, opening her palm and pointing her fingers toward the goblin.

A cyclone of wind shot from her hand, swiftly flowing to the goblin’s feet, uprooting them from the ground. The shock caused the creature to tumble ungracefully and loose his grip of the elleth as he desperately tried to catch himself. He crashed into the dirt, face first, on his belly. Tauriel rolled, clearing herself from his wake.

The goblin raised up on a forearm and shook his head trying to understand what had happened to him. An arrow pierced his skull and his head fell to the ground with a thud. The red haired elleth scrambled to safety and Amelina breathed a sigh of relief.

A terrible screeching siren abruptly seized her, infiltrating her entire being. Heat ravaged her from her toes to the top of her head. It was the eye, it had seen her. She placed her hands over her ears and her eyes pinched shut tightly. She fell silently to her knees.

“Amelina, No!” Thranduil shouted, but it was too late.

“There! The fae is in the bush!” a large Orc commander thundered, pointing toward Amelina. The entire legion of Orc’s shifted toward her with a singular purpose. Now, it was Amelina Thranduil was too far away from to save. He had covered remarkable ground to move toward Tauriel, leaving Amelina unguarded.

The King's steed reared at the Orcs in a futile attempt to frighten the incoming pack away. Thranduil roared, his dual blades cutting through Orc flesh like butter. He moved with fatal determination, dread encompassing him. He was going to lose her, she was going to be killed right then and there in front of him. No matter how many Orcs he was taking down, he would not reach her before one of them did.

Thranduil’s guards were able to pick off the first Orc’s to reach her with arrows. His steed bravely trampled the first two who breached the brush under his mighty hooves. As the Orcs penetrated the brush, one came down on the King's horse with his sword. Amelina stepped in front of the animal.

“No Sluge! The Master wants her alive!” The offending Orc was barely able to stop his weapon from passing through into the faerie’s heart. He had to give it a hard tug to pull it from between its buried spot in the bones of her ribs and sternum.

Thranduil continued to slash through the throng as he watched Amelina taking the hit of the Orc's blade, his heart breaking. Miraculously, the Orc stopped short, his sword piercing her chest, but not reaching her heart

The Orc sniffed her, “She is still alive. I just want to have a little taste,” the beast crooned, holding Amelina off the ground by a fistful of golden hair. Sticking out his tongue, it licked a long path of purple tears on Amelina’s cheek.

“So yunmmy sweet….” the beast continued, bearing his teeth. It bellowed and fell as the Orc leader ran a sword through his heart, snatching away the now unconscious faerie before she hit the ground.


	17. Chapter 17

_ "There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable." _

_Mark Twain_

 

Thranduil could see that Amelina had slipped into unconsciousness and for that he was grateful. He did not want her to have to endure the fear or the pain being inflicted on her by the beast who had captured her. He fought hard to keep his equilibrium, his hand fisting the hilt of his sword so tightly it would leave a permanent indention on his leather glove.

Rage boiled inside him seeing the orc carry her with one arm like a she was a rag doll, walking away with her, his back turned defiantly to the elves as if he knew he could not be stopped. Amelina’s feet dragged on the ground. The King bore down on the orc leader with a snarl. The pack lunged to protect their alpha and his newly acquired prize as the zing of Thranduil’s steel cut through the air.

The elves moved like a fluid wave to follow their King into this new phase of the battle and suffered their first loss. A young guard fell to the axe of a clamoring, eager orc who caught the willowy sprite in the side, chopping through half of his body. He fell silently, his golden hair fanning around his head that plummeted to the ground, bouncing once before settling in death.

The King’s troops did not falter or hesitate at the loss. They continued, bravely advancing despite the tremendous odds against them. They were taking out multitudes of orcs who crumbled to the ground in pools of blood, but there were so many of them, it had little effect. Amelia was becoming more and more distant. The orcs successfully held the King’s forces at bay while their leader made it to the back of a waiting warg.

Thranduil could hear his own shouts reverberating in his head as he watched the grey, bare chested alpha toss Amelina over the shoulders of the mangy beast he had mounted. He turned and met the King’s eyes with an evil, jagged toothed grin before turning back and kicking the animal into motion.

As if on cue, a darkening shadow fell over them and the air turned cold. Gandalf finished the swing of his staff despite the disturbance, taking out two orcs before staring at the sky for a long moment. A wondrous smile broke across his face. He had thought all was lost, but he knew well, things were not always as they appeared to be. “My Lady,” he whispered.

Thranduil sensed a shift in the air and saw the darkness falling around them. He eyes grew wide but could see nothing other than the fact that the change in the atmosphere had sparked fear in the orc pack. They became frenzied and frightened, circling in place, looking to the sky.

It was a gift. Running the gauntlet of confused beasts, he rushed to the front of their line. By the time their leader had seen the King coming, Thranduil had gained considerable ground. The orc alpha would not be able to outrun him.

Thranduil charged, his head low, one hand on the reins the other on the hilt of his weapon. His steely gaze remained steadfastly pinned directly on his target. The orc turned and made a break for it but a being materialized in front of him. She was tall and wore a white gossamer gown. Her long golden hair was gently billowing around her shoulders. She stepped forward, graceful and barefoot. Her pale blue eyes captured the eyes of the warg.

The warg skidded to a stop and fear flashed across the face of the orc rider. He dismounted and reached for the unconscious faerie. Galadriel confidently lifted her hand, sending a jolt of energy that instantly killed the startled orc commander. The pack fell into chaos, frantically running in every direction to the cover of the woods.

Thranduil advanced, unsheathing his sword. His brow furrowed in agony. If the warg bolted, Amelina would be lost. He pushed his horse harder, watching Galadriel approach the vicious animal with her arm outstretched and her palm facing forward.

The animal lowered his head in submission and lay down on the ground. Galadriel lifted the faerie from the beast and cradled her in her arms as she knelt. The warg whimpered and backed away slowly. Galadriel placed her hand over the Amelina’s wounded chest and pulled it back, examining the blood.

Thranduil reached her side and slipped off his horse, falling to his knees next to her. Galadriel looked at the King in in surprise as the revelation hit her. The great King of Woodland realm was distressed, he cared deeply for the fae. “We must get her to Caras Galadhon, she is fading fast.” She had not spoken out loud, but Thranduil heard her low, voice of warning in his mind.

Galadriel did not object when Thranduil took the faerie from her, still stunned by the knowledge that the ElvenKing had fallen for her. She felt great unease about what the implications of such a relationship might mean. Nonetheless, it may not matter at all if they could not get the faerie to Elrond in time. He had traveled to Lothlórien with his daughter and would be there if they could reach him before it was too late. He was experienced with faeries and was, perhaps, the fae’s only hope.

She watched Thranduil tenderly cradle the faerie and kiss her forehead, his eyes wet, his face pained. “Amelina, hold on, hold on for me princess,” he whispered lovingly to her. Amelina. That was not the true name of this fae, she knew. She wondered if Thranduil had any idea who and what he was holding.

Galadriel felt him before she saw him, although she had known he would be there. She looked up to see his weathered face under the brim of his grey pointed hat, his disheveled hair scattered against his long woolen robes. He held his hand out to her. She took his weathered, rough palm in her soft, silky fingers and he lifted her from the ground. He concealed amazing strength and virility beneath those tattered robes. She was one of very few who knew what lay beneath his disguise.

Their gazes locked in deep warmth. Their affection for one another was undeniable. They could never be together in a real sense. Galadriel was beholden to Celeborn, a destiny she had accepted. Her true love, her soul mate, however, stood before her now. The aged wizard was the one who ignited her, who stirred her, who knew her like no other.

Theirs were stolen moments in time, moments that made life worthwhile. It was this that allowed her pity for the ElvenKing who now held in his arms a being that could never belong to him. They both glanced down at the silver haired warrior holding the delicate faerie in his embrace and then looked at each other worriedly.

“Mithrandir, you are not alone in this quest, we must move now if we have any hope of saving her.”

Gandalf bowed in deep reverence. He respected her counsel like no other, he needed her. But now, he knew, they must ride hard and fast to the land she ruled with her husband. They shared the deepest commitment, the silent strength to do that which had to be done despite the personal sacrifices it required. He could not conceal the longing in his eyes as he reluctantly allowed her to withdraw her hand from his.


	18. Chapter 18

_"Elrond is a master of healing, but the weapons of our Enemy are deadly. To tell you the truth, I had very little hope; for I suspected that there was some fragment of the blade still in the closed wound. But it could not be found until last night. Then Elrond removed a splinter. It was deeply buried, and it was working inwards.'"_

_JR Tolkien_

Thranduil wrapped Amelina in his cloak, her skin was cold to his touch. He held her close to him, lending her the warmth of his body as they rode. If it were not for the slight rise and fall of her chest, he would believe her dead.

She had defied his orders to save Tauriel, and damn her, she stepped in front of his horse. Did she not deem her life worth more than that of an animal? The image of the orc blade coming down on her chest played over and over in his mind. It was only by some miracle she was alive, at least for the time being.

The hours passed in a blur. They stopped twice and each time he gently parted her lips, giving her droplets of water from a soaked cloth that he squeezed above her mouth. His hands were shaking, something that had not happened since he had lost…..he quickly pushed those thoughts aside. He would not lose Amelina. He filled her chest with healing energy from his own hands each time they stopped but they did not linger long, time was of the essence and they needed to get her to Elrond.

The wizard rode with Galadriel and Thranduil was struck by the deep intimacy between the pair. If he had not known that the elleth was pledged to Celeborn he might think them lovers. Galadriel was lovely, her beauty was unsurpassed among the elves.

There had been a time when Thranduil himself had engaged in a few flirtations with her, but they were innocent at best and had occurred many eons ago. Still, although she had responded to him, she did not respond the way she was responding to Gandalf. Perhaps she fancied the wizard’s dramatics.

At least they both seemed aware of the gravity of Amelina’s situation and they were not so preoccupied with each other that they allowed it to slow them down. In fact, they seemed to work in tandem, one scanning for threats while the other quickened the horse the bore the weight of two riders.

As they reached the edge of Lothlórien, Elrond galloped out to meet them. His face was filled with urgency and concern and he rode directly toward Thranduil, barely nodding to Gandalf and Galadriel. “Thranduil,” he said in a terse greeting as he dismounted and moved to the side of the Mirkwood King’s tall black stallion.

“Elrond,” he replied. Elrond lifted his arms up for the faerie and Thranduil gently eased her down. Elrond had to look directly into Thranduil’s cool blue eyes before he realized he was still holding onto her. Reluctantly, he released her. Elrond sighed deeply as he ran his hands over the fae.

“Come, Arwen has a room prepared for her.” If Thranduil was hoping for any reassurance from the King of Rivendell, he did not receive it. The look on Elrond’s face held no comfort, only uncertainty. He gracefully mounted his magnificent brown steed that stood taller than the beast Thranduil rode. With a swift lunge, Elrond was racing the faerie off to the place he had prepared for her.

Thranduil followed with the others, feeling the empty weight in his arms and his heart. For the first time he was unable to thwart the knowledge that she might not survive from entering his consciousness and he rode in silence next to Gandalf and Galadriel. The pair looked at each other knowingly as if they knew whether the faerie survived or not, this situation would be tenuous. The King’s obvious feelings for the faerie had severely complicated matters.

As they arrived at the gates, Thranduil dismounted and immediately requested to be taken to Amelia.

“Thranduil, it has been a long, hard ride. Let Elrond work. Take some time to restore yourself. Amelina will need you when she awakens.” Galadriel looked at him with compassion, there was no animosity in her eyes. He sensed the hypnotic nature of her voice, but he was old and wise and immune to such charms.

“I cannot rest until I see her,” his voice was firm and uncompromising. “I must see her Galadriel.”

She stared at him for a moment and then her eyes softened in understanding. “Very well, son of Oropher, but please allow Elrond to do his work. He does have her best interest at heart, I assure you.” Thranduil nodded.

“For that, I am most grateful.” Galadriel did not miss the implications of his statement. He considered the faerie his and Elrond's work with her a personal favor. He could not be more mistaken, she thought.

Galadriel hailed a willowy elleth in the hall and instructed her to take Thranduil to Amelina’s room. The young, golden haired beauty peered up at Thranduil beneath long, feathery black eyelashes but he did not notice her interest in him. “This way My Lord,” she said, her tone sensual, but he paid no heed. She led him down a long corridor lit with torches fitted in filigreed sconces on the walls.

Thranduil entered the dimly lit room. Elrond was poised over Amelina. She was lying on her stomach, her back bared. A white sheet covered her from her lower back down. Arwen stood by her Father’s side holding a bowl containing a liquid sprinkled with herbs. Although Elrond was using traditional medicine on the faerie, it was clear to Thranduil as he entered the room, the King of Rivendell was summoning powerful magick as he worked.

Thranduil felt relieved. If Amelia could have been healed with traditional methods, he would have healed her himself. Albeit Elrond was only half elf, he had an ability that very few elves possessed. Where Elrond’s gift came from was unknown, many said he simply was a talented physician. But for those experienced in the healing arts, most knew for certain, Elrond was capable of work that defied the mortal realm.

Thranduil stood quietly in the doorway watching as Father and daughter worked intently on the faerie who had claimed his heart. He felt weak and tired. He understood that interrupting now would not help her in any way, although he wanted nothing more than to be at her side, holding her hand, talking to her.

He quietly slipped back into the shadow of the hallway, thinking he should check on Tauriel. He turned to find a familiar elleth standing so close behind him he almost ran into her. “Thranduil, I heard you were coming,” she purred. “The poor little child, I hear she might not make it.”

Thranduil’s eyes darkened. ”Cassiopeia. I did not expect to see you here.” He willed his familiar, protective mask to fall over his demeanor, not wanting her to be aware of his feelings for the faerie. Cassie knew him well. They had been lovers for centuries, often going decades without seeing each other but always coming together with sparks whenever their paths crossed.

She was, however, the last elf he wished to see right now. Cassie had an insatiable appetite and could be very possessive when they were together. They had no commitment to each other, aside from the fact that when they were together, they remained exclusive. During those times, each just took what they needed from the other. It was a mutually convenient, pleasurable arrangement.

Cassiopeia smiled warmly “It is a surprise to see you here as well My Lord.” She slinked close to him and reached up to slip her arms around his neck. She frowned when he stiffened.

“Not this time Cassiopeia.” Thranduil took a step back. His rejection gave her a momentary sting, but she quickly noted how exhausted he looked.

“Ahhh, you have had a long day. Perhaps some wine and a massage is in order.” She seductively trailed her fingers up his arm.

Cassiopeia was a desirable elleth. She was in fact stunning, long and lean with emerald eyes and a thick mane of black hair. Thranduil was surprised at his repulsion to her touch. He usually found himself responsive, even eagerly receptive to her overtures.

He grabbed her hand, pulling it away roughly and she smiled beguilingly. Cassie never minded it rough. “Not this time Cassiopeia,” he said again, this time with a warning edge in his voice. He felt a fleeting moment of regret at the hurt look that crossed her over her gorgeous green eyes. He had no desire to hurt her, she had been a friend and a worthy, willing lover.

“Well,” she wrenched her hand from his grip, “Perhaps you will be in a less foul mood tomorrow.” Her green eyes flashed in anger and she quickly turned her back to him. Holding her head high, she sauntered away in a catlike walk designed to make him recall exactly what lay beneath her skirts and remind him of what he was missing.

Thranduil rubbed his forehead with his hand before turning back to watch Elrond work on Amelina. Reluctantly he left. He would go to check on Tauriel and then return to Amelina’s side for the night. Even if he just waited in the hallway, he wanted to be near her.


	19. Chapter 19

  
“Some wounds run too deep for the healing.”   
― J.K. Rowling  _[  
](http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/2809203)_

Tauriel was contrite. She had disobeyed the King’s orders to stay safely stashed away during the battle and the results were disastrous. Fear gripped her as Thranduil walked into her room, unannounced. He had always taken a personal interest in her. He gave her more, but he expected more from her than from the others. He was  harder on her too, harder on her than anyone else in his guard, with the sole exception of Legolas.

The King looked weary as he entered her room. “Are you alright Tauriel?” She was surprised by the softness in his voice.

“Yes My Lord.” She was unable to meet his eyes, having almost paid for her impulsive actions with her life. Tauriel knew that the faerie, the King’s prize possession, might die. The fae had selflessly stepped forward and risked her own life to save Tauriel. She had been wounded and almost captured. Tauriel felt deeply ashamed.

“When the Orc’s attacked I waited, but there were so many. Bromadir would have fallen had I not come to his aide.” It was not an excuse that she offered her King, it was a confession.

“I know iel.” Thranduil stepped forward and cupped her jaw in his hand, forcing her to look at him.

“I understand. I would have done the same.” Tauriel nodded and as much as she fought them, the tears streamed from her eyes.

Thranduil looked at the ceiling and took a deep breath before releasing her. He turned his back to her and walked to the doorway.

“What you did was irresponsible and inexcusable. You risked your life and the lives of everyone around you. You defied my orders. Others are paying for your poor judgement. But I understand why you did it Tauriel. I am grateful you are alive, more grateful than you know.”

Tauriel sobbed silently as Thranduil left her room without so much as a backward glance. He confounded and confused her. He was invested in her, she knew this to be true. Yet, he thought less of her, he had made that clear. She was not good enough for his son. Still, he expected her to be the best of the best. He always held her in high esteem and he always watched out for her. There was nothing worse than disappointing him and she had deeply disappointed him today.

**  
Galadriel found him standing outside on the balcony. His long, tattered robes were gone and instead he wore a pair of fitted grey pants, a crisp white shirt and black riding boots. His hair hung loose over his broad shoulders. If it were not for the damp grey curls, one could easily mistake him for a much younger man from behind. He sensed her presence when she entered, but he did not move. He waited patiently.

She went to him silently, her bare feet padding across the cool stone. She lifted both hands and ran them down the soft linen of his shirt and then wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek between his shoulder blades. Gandalf turned to her, lifting his eyebrows.

Their eyes locked in a heated gaze and she slipped her hand through the unbuttoned nape of his shirt, her fingers gently toying with the silken hairs covering his chest. “I have missed you Mithrandir.” Her voice was low and breathy. His lips curved in a playful grin and his dusky blue eyes sparkled.

**  
Thranduil declined the assistance of the blond haired elleth with washing, but he did take advantage of a bath to wipe away the grime of battle and the long, dusty ride. He donned plain clothes, black pants and a white tailored shirt. He shunned all adornments. He felt no need to maintain appearances, all he was concerned with now was Amelina. Their travels had been delayed by the Orc attack. She had used what little energy she had to save Tauriel and she had been injured again. He was worried he had made the wrong decision trying to bring her here, that he had caused her more harm than good.

As he entered her room, she looked no better. Her usual sun kissed glow was replaced by a grey cast, her lips were no longer full and pink, they were thin with only the slightest hint of color. Her cheeks were sunken and dark. Thranduil felt bile rise to his throat. It appeared she was lying in wake, that she was gone.

He barged to her bed in a panic. Arwen swiftly arose from her seat next to Amelina’s bed. She gently placed her hand on Thranduil’s shoulder. “She lives My Lord, the healing work has left her withered but she is exorcising the toxins.” Thranduil looked at Arwen and then to the faerie, then back again to Arwen.

“She is alive?” he croaked, his eyes glistened as he fought to keep his composure.

“Yes,” Arwen replied reassuringly. “Her condition is severe, but I believe she will survive.” Arwen paused, looking down at Amelina before returning her gaze to the Mirkwood King. “You care deeply for her.” It was neither a question nor a statement, it was more akin to a revelation.

“She will need you, she has much trauma trapped inside that must heal aside from her physical wounds. She holds many secrets.”

Thranduil stared at Arwen. He wondered if she had witnessed one of Amelina’s nightmares. Not knowing what to say, he simply nodded. “I will be staying with her tonight.” His statement, while not unkind, was direct. He was not asking permission, he was stating a fact.

Looking into the vivid blue eyes of Lord Elrond’s daughter, Thranduil understood she was a powerful elleth. He felt a momentary kinship with Elrond. His parenting duties surely must demand the same sacrifices as Thranduil’s own with such a dynamic daughter as Arwen.  He waited to see if Arwen would challenge him, but she did not and he was grateful. He did not wish to have to put the Lady of Rivendell in her proper place.

To his relief, although Arwen made no move to leave, she did not object to Thranduil’s presence. In fact, she seemed to welcome it. Thranduil’s worries that Arwen would want to engage in idle chat, or worse, delve into the intricacies of his relationship with Amelia, were quickly alleviated. Arwen was content to maintain a silent vigil over Amelina and she demanded nothing of Thranduil. They sat in a silent reverie, both keeping a close eye on the faerie that lay in repose under their constant attentiveness.

It was many hours into the night when they noticed the beads of perspiration forming on Amelina’s brow. Her body began to twitch at first, and then jerk. Arwen placed a towel in the water bowl and wrung it out, dabbing Amelia’s forehead with the moist, cool cloth. Thranduil knelt by her side and took her hand in his.

“No! Noooo!” Amelina’s shriek cut through the quiet of the first hour of the morning. Purple tears streamed down her face. Her torment was visceral and her entire body shook in violent tremors. Arwen began chanting, placing her hand atop the the fae’s head but soon, she realized it was Thranduil’s soothing voice that the faerie responded to. She stepped back into the shadows.

Thranduil spoke tenderly to the faerie, He called her “Lina” while stroking her cheek and her lips. He placed soft kisses on her forehead, telling her he was there and that she was safe. Arwen slipped out of the room, feeling as though staying would make her a voyeur as Thranduil crawled into the bed beside the fae and took her in his arms, whispering private reassurances into her ear. Clearly, he was what she needed and no elven magick could do for her what Thranduil was doing.

Amelia may have needed Elrond to heal the wounds inflicted on her body by the Orc’s but Arwen could see, she needed Thranduil to heal whatever inner turmoil she was experiencing. Arwen had known Thranduil for his cold, impenetrable demeanor. She was shocked to see him so vulnerable, so tender and caring. The Woodland King was an unexpected, but welcomed help as far as Arwen was concerned and she slipped away into the darkness of the corridor.

As much as Thranduil was tormented by Amelina’s cries, he was imminently grateful for the signs of life. Her skin was starting to warm, her tears were hot and they were a welcome reprieve after the cold state she had been in. Thranduil crawled into the bed next to her, molding his body against hers. He encircled her petite form in his length, offering her his strength.

“Lina, Lina,” he crooned, kissing her wet cheeks. “You are safe now princess. I have you. You are safe.” She calmed at his voice and fisted his clean shirt, wrinkling it in her tight grip. She sucked in air and he rocked her until her short uneven gasps subsided into gentle, even breaths of sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

_The gods have sent medicines for the venom of serpents, but there is no medicine for a bad woman. She is more noxious than the viper, or than fire itself._  
_\----- Euripides_

Cassiopeia fumed. Thranduil was still rejecting her. The faerie had been unconscious for three days, Thranduil never left her except to bathe and change his clothes. He even took his meals next to her. He was like a little boy with a new puppy. No matter what she did, Cassie was unable to pull him away from the fae’s bedside.

Cassiopeia was well aware that female faerie’s had often been kept by wealthy males and Kings as sexual pets. Faeries were rare now, mostly extinct. This probably explained Thranduil’s obsession with his latest acquisition. She had taken some time to read about them. They were considered sensual little beings, but more often than not they were feral and needed to be caged and restrained.

Part of their appeal was that they often put up a fight when being used by their masters. Apparently this type of sex play could be a gratifying sport for males who had stream of willing sex partners. It was usually short lived, however, as the faeries generally became more docile after extended captivity.

This creature was sick and could offer Thranduil nothing. Who knew what kind of diseases she had? Perhaps she was even rabid. Cassiopeia had everything he needed just waiting for the taking and she was willing to put up a struggle if that was what his current fantasy entailed. Yet, despite the hints she dropped of what she was willing to do with him, or rather pretend she was unwilling to do with him, he remained completely absorbed with his new pet and he reacted to Cassie’s proposals with cold indifference.

She found Thranduil in the pools on the fourth morning after his arrival. She slipped her gown over her shoulders and it fell to the ground with a soft swish. If Thranduil heard her, he made no move to acknowledge her presence. He sat naked in the warm water with his head tipped back and his eyes closed. Cassie had heard the servants talking about how the faerie had screamed for most of the night.

Why he was still keeping vigil by the fae’s side was beyond her. She could not be pleasuring him in the condition she was in and the servants were capable of seeing to her needs. There was no reason for Thranduil to be staying with her day and night. He was clearly exhausted.

Cassie crept up quietly behind Thranduil and slid into the water next to him. He did not open his eyes, “No Cassiopeia,” he said flatly. Cassie let out a humph.

“No? I am not your pet, you cannot speak to me that way!” she spat. Thranduil slowly opened his eyes and lazily glanced over at her.

“Seriously Thranduil, I understand the intrigue of having such a critter. I have heard they can be quite thrilling, for a time. But she is just passing fancy and eventually you will tire of her sell her to someone else looking for a thrill. What you and I have will long outlast your preoccupation with your new little toy.”

“Cassie, you and I have nothing. There is nothing between us.” Thranduil closed his eyes again. He sounded bored.

“We have this,” she replied, running her fingers down the hard ridges of his abdomen. Thranduil caught her hands beneath the water just before they reached his cock which remained impassive in the wake of her touch.

“Cassiopeia, I care for Amelina. I am here with her, I am here for her and I will not be having sex with you. Do you understand or do I need to tell the Lady of Lorien to remove you?”

“You cannot have me removed, this is not your Kingdom!” She shot back from him sending waves through the tranquil blue water of the pool.

“Do not underestimate what I can and cannot do Cassiopeia, “he growled, his piercing blue eyes were as cold as ice. “Now leave, I need a moment to meditate before I return to my charge. I do not wish to be disturbed.”

Cassiopeia splashed noisily out of the water leaving large puddles on the stone around her. She did not bother to dry off and cursed as her dress stubbornly clung to her wet flesh instead of gliding on smoothly.

“Don’t bother coming back to my bed when that feral creature dies or you grow bored with her, I will not be waiting for you.”

“Perhaps you should give Lord Elrond a whirl Cassie, he has had a rough few days, I am sure he could benefit from your services.”

“It is too bad you did not bring Legolas my Lord, I should like to give him a whirl,” she bit back.

Actually, Thranduil thought that might not be a bad idea. Cassie was talented in bed. There was no doubt she could afford his son a distraction from his current proclivity toward Tauriel.

“I will be happy to provide you with an escort back to Mirkwood, I am certain my son would enjoy you.”

“Perhaps I should warn your sweet little pet what to expect from you when you grow tired of her!”

Thranduil rose to his full height and bounded from the bath. Rivlets of water trickled over his well-defined musculature. His statuesque form glistened in the flickering light of the torch flames. Cassiopeia marveled at his perfection, he was incredibly beautiful and even in his unaroused state, he was incredibly well endowed. The sight of him like this made her mouth water.

He cleared the space between them and grabbed her roughly, she felt a warm gush between her legs thinking for a moment he might take her up on her offer to allow him to force her. “You stay away from her! Do you hear me Cassie? Stay away from her!”

A frown creased her face when she realized he was only interested in keeping her from his faerie and nothing else. She tried to jerk away from him, but he held her arm in an iron grip. “There will be serious consequences for you if you disobey me Cassiopeia and I will have no mercy on you if you cause her any harm.”

“Fine,” Cassie hissed, “It is sad to see you like this, obsessed with that sickly thing, but if that is what you want you can have it! I am done trying to rescue you!”

Thranduil gave her a sardonic grin. “Good girl Cassie. Now get out of my sight! I have grown weary of you chasing me around like a bitch in heat.” Thranduil released her arm and she spun around, marching from the room.

Thranduil watched her leave thinking she was more like a snake in the grass and he wondered why he had indulged her ill temper and possessiveness for so many years. He guessed it had just not been worth the effort to shake her loose before now.

Grabbing a towel he quickly dried himself. Amelina had been resting peacefully when he left. Last night had been a turning point. Her fever had raged but then finally broke under Elrond’s constant administrations. Thranduil wanted to be there when she awoke. She was far from being completely healed but he was certain the worst of her ordeal had passed. She was going to live and the heaviness that had covered his heart since she became ill was lifting with the knowledge she would survive this.

***

Galadriel woke to a gentle tugging at her nipple. The coarse hair of his beard made her skin tingle and her hands came up. She buried her fingers in his long, thick hair and moaned. He pulled the hardened disk between his teeth and nibbled, one hand plumping her breast and the other moving in feather light strokes down the length of her hip. Even with Celeborn away, he had not dared spend the night in her room. He had come to share with her the news that the fae’s fever had broken and Elrond believed the faerie was now on her way to a full recovery.

Gandalf was surprised when he entered her room to find Galadriel asleep, it was something she rarely did, but the past few days had been exhausting for everyone. When he saw her lying on the white bed linens, her hair spilled like spun gold around her regal, peaceful features, he had to have her. He was pleasantly surprised to find her naked beneath the sheet covering her. Her luminous, pale skin glowed in the morning light and her perfect, firm breasts peeked from beneath the arms that rested against her chest.

He gently pulled her arms down and took her nipple in his mouth. It became taut almost immediately and the sweet sound of her moan urged him on. His mouth trailed down to her naval and his tongue danced over her belly as he lowered himself between her legs that she spread wide for him. His lips found the sensitive spot on her thigh and she gasped in pleasure as he sucked, careful not to mark her.

“Mithrandir, please,” her voice was still husky with sleep as she stirred under him, rotating her hips to direct his mouth to her throbbing center. Gandalf chuckled at her impatience. He leaned up on his elbow and ran a finger over her slick folds and then parted them gently, exposing her. She cried out and arched her hips.

As much as he would have preferred to torment her for hours like this, he knew they were expected at breakfast with Elrond. Without hesitation, he took her core into his mouth and laved it with his tongue.

“Oh yes, yes,” she mewled as he worked her swollen gem, gently teething and stroking until he could feel her readiness. He took all of her in his mouth and he felt her grow harder with each soft suck. She lifted her feet to his shoulders, giving him greater access. He pushed his tongue inside of her silken opening and moved it in and out. Her wailing drowned out sounds of the chirping morning birds. Taking her clit in his mouth, he gave her a hard lick and then rhythmic suction, sending shivers through her. Her body jerked and spasmed. She came hard, gasping and calling out his name. She was still vibrating as she relaxed back into the plush mattress.

Her eyes remained closed as she tried to regain her breath and Gandalf quickly slipped out of his pants. He climbed on top of her and plunged his length inside her. Galadriel’s eyes flew open and a pleasured whimper of delight escaped her. “There you are Alatáriel,” Gandalf cooed. Her eyes were brilliant when she was aroused. The light of the stars that were part of her sparkled against her blue cast irises.

She blinked and hummed beneath him his as he thrust into her again, her lips gently parting. "My Lady," he whispered reverently before covering her mouth with his, his beard tickling her face as his tongue trailed the inside of her lower lip. 

She writhed beneath him, wet and warm as he delved deeper into her. He fingers dug into his back. “Give me all of it Mithrandir” she pleaded. Gandalf plummeted into her, riding her hard, reaching her end. She bucked up to meet him, their bodies colliding with a voracity that pushed Gandalf to the edge.

“I am almost there, ”he rasped.

Galadriel increased her rocking motions, and reached her long arm underneath her buttocks, grabbing his bullocks and gently squeezing them in her palm. Gandalf groaned loudly as he felt her pulsating sex. “Come with me Mithrandir.” Her voice was sensuous and delicious. Galadriel inhaled sharply as the first wave rippled through her and her sex clenched around his rigid staff. Gandalf shuddered violently.

"Ahhh Galadriel," he cried, clasping her tightly. His hot seed coated her as their cries of rapture entwined like a song on the morning breeze.

Gandalf rolled and collapsed at her side, pulling her against his chest. Galadriel sighed and nuzzled her head in the crook of his neck. He needed to tell her they were expected at breakfast with the Lord of Rivendell, he needed to put on his robes, but for the moment, he could not speak.


	21. Chapter 21

_This is the Fairy land. O spite of spites,_  
_We talk with goblins, owls, and sprites!_  
_If we obey them not, this will ensue:_  
_They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue._

_~ William Shakespeare_

Within the first twenty-four hours after his departure, Legolas had a new appreciation for his Father. Thranduil had trained his son well. He had learned to be a formidable warrior and a noteworthy military leader. He had no idea his Father had to reside over an endless parade of petty problems as well as more serious matters outside of the realm of military defense. Legolas’ patience was wearing thin.

Initially, Legolas had rejected the notion of sitting on his Father’s austere throne while carrying out his duties. He soon realized, however, that setting himself above the quibbling nonsense afforded him greater respect. When he tried to stand between two quarreling parties, he was pushed aside. Sitting on the throne above those seeking arbitration, and maintaining a cool composure, gave him an air of authority that proved necessary to successfully mediate the many disputes being brougwht before him.

He found himself listening to quarreling neighbors who both equally asserted the other was infringing upon the other’s property line. He had to deal with humans from Laketown who wanted renegotiate current prices on goods and trade agreements. He even had to deal with dwarfs.

Legolas tried to pay attention and act wisely, but his mind wandered and he was bored beyond reason. His Father was skilled at assessing such situations and making quick, impersonal decisions based solely on facts. Legolas lacked the experience to act as decisively as his Father.

Today, however, he found himself deeply enmeshed in the plight of a particular elleth. Her Father was a warrior, a warrior Legolas had known. He had not risen to rank in the guard, but he had been a worthy soldier who had fallen in a surprise attack just one year ago. He had left behind a family that now struggled to survive in the wake of his loss.

The stunning, young, raven haired elleth had borrowed coin to keep their farm afloat as her mother had taken to her bed in grief. She alone was left to care for the family’s homestead and a younger brother. It had not been a bad year for crops but oddly, this particular farm had been singularly hit by a plague that none of the surrounding farms had suffered from.

When the loan came due, she was short. Not by much, she had spent endless hours picking the plight from the leaves of her produce by hand, but the yield was still short and she was not able to pay her debt in full.

The lender who seemed more of a shark, had offered to forgive her debt and care for her, her infirm Mother and her little brother in return for the beautiful elleth’s pledge to be his. She was distraught. She wanted to make a partial payment and extend the length of her terms. Her lender adamantly refused, sighting the elleth’s need for him to intercede and take over her family holdings, sighting her incompetence.

Legolas clearly saw that unless he intervened, she would have to acquiesce to a lifetime of bedding an elf that repulsed her in order to save her family. She had come to ask the King for mercy, but in Thranduil’s stead, she had found his silver haired, blue eyed, novice son.

The Prince noticed the way her benefactor leered at her and her revulsion toward him. He could not blame her, the elf in question was ill kempt and had a sinister air about him. Not to mention he was many decades her senior and lacking in social graces. He was practically drooling over her.

Legolas tried to remain impartial but he felt himself drawn to the brave, young elleth who had endured great hardship only to have fate deal her a unexpectedly poor hand. It was clear that if it were not for her family, she would let her family estate go. Legolas admired her courage and her dedication to her family. He could see how much she was willing to sacrifice for their well being, especially that of her younger brother who was still just a child.

There was an audible gasp among the spectators in the court when Legolas ordered that the balance of the elleth’s loan be paid from the King’s coffers. Legolas paused for a moment, knowing his decision had far reaching implications.

He cleared his throat. “I served with your Father, Liliana. He fought admirably and his loss was a loss to us all. In light of his service, I will see your debt paid in full as well as send you the King’s personal gardener to determine the source of the plague that ruined your crop. I consider it an honor to provide for your family in return for your Father’s sacrifice.

Liliana beamed and the lovely, heartsickened elleth that had come before him transformed before his very eyes. Her downcast eyes opened wide, her shoulders straightened and the most beautiful smile Legolas had ever seen fell across her face. He had not noticed the depth of her emerald green eyes before, but now that they looked directly into his, Legolas could not help but to smile back.

The reaction of her plaintiff, however, caused him concern. He was clearly enraged. “This would not happen if your Father was here! When he returns I will see this decision overturned!” he shouted.

“You will respect my decision or you will see the walls of my Father’s dungeon!” Legolas’ voice reverberated through the hall as he stood glaring at the elf beneath the throne. His tone was menacing and his imitation of his Father when challenged was astoundingly accurate, inspiring the same fear and obedience the Mirkwood King demanded.

The offending elf bowed his head in defeat, but his anger was still hung in the air as he turned his heal and retreated, each step betraying the grudge he carried heavily upon his shoulders. He clearly had come with the expectation of having the elleth in his bed that night and Legolas’ unexpected overture to assist the maiden in distress had toppled his plans.

Although having his adversary retreat with his tail between his legs made Legolas feel Kingly, he worried for the elleth. She and her family were the ones most likely to bear the brunt of the anger bottled up inside the elf who had just went storming out of the court with steam nearly leaking from his pointed ears. Legolas had serious worry for the safety of the captivating elleth now standing alone standing at the foot of the throne.

Gracefully and with remarkable speed, Legolas descended until he was standing on equal footing with the silken haired maiden who had sought his counsel. “My Lady, I would like for you and your family to reside in the palace until my men can determine if there was foul play upon your estate. I fear for your safety."

"Oh,” she responded softly, “ My Mother, I do not think it would be good to move her…she is…she has not been herself since my Father was killed. ”Legolas studied her for a moment and then nodded.

“Then allow me to send a guard. I do not trust your neighbor not to retaliate against the decision I made today. He clearly was not interested in repayment My Lady. He did not want money, he wanted you. I do not trust him, I fear he may try to harm you.”

Tears welled upon in her liquid green eyes and Legolas could sense the incredible burden she carried. She was clearly overwhelmed. “Please, do not cry,” he said lightly placing his hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture. “I will help you.”

"I am sorry," she said swiping the tears from her cheek with the back of her hand. She curtsied "Thank you Prince Legolas. I will repay you, I promise."

"It is not necessary Liliana. Come, I will provide you with a ride home and a watchman." 

He surprised himself when he placed his hand on her lower back to escort her out. It was something his Father would have done when conversing with a beautiful elleth, but oddly, it was not a mannerism that Legolas had adopted. She did not seem to mind. She smiled gratefully at him and seemed to relax from the tense posture her body had held in his court.

He called for a servant to send some supplies home with her as well.

"Oh you do not have to do that My Prince."

"it is my pleasure, you waited all afternoon for your hearing. I must apologize for the delays today. Your family will be hungry when you return."

"You are very generous." Her expression was sincere and she gazed up at him in appreciation.

"Be safe Liliana." Legolas handed her off to the arriving guard and he reluctantly turned from her. As he reached the door, he glanced back and grinned. She had a faraway dreamy expression on her face and her lips were curled upwards in a sweet smile. Legolas knew he would be thinking about that smile all night.

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay. I was on vacation, and then sustained an injury. I had a chapter to post last night but then lost half of it which I hopefully have reconstructed well enough today. I cannot begin to express how much I despise Windows 8. Anyhoo, I will resume posting regular updates now....again my apologies for the unusual delay.

 

# “War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all; but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.”

  
― [J.R.R. Tolkien](http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/656983.J_R_R_Tolkien),  _[The Two Towers](http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/2963845)_

Amelina had not opened her eyes yet, but by all measures she was doing much better. Thranduil held her hand, told her stories of times past, and read to her books from Galadriel’s vast library. When she cried in her sleep, he crawled in bed next her and held her against him until the nightmare passed and she was calm again.

On the morning of the fifth day, a messenger arrived from Mirkwood. The King’s realm was under attack. Although Legolas did not ask for Thranduil to return, he could tell from his son’s message, this was more than an ordinary attack. Legolas reported that he had been successful in fending off the invaders, but there had been several successive attacks, each new one bringing in larger forces. This was out of the ordinary and Thranduil knew he must return to Mirkwood. He would have to leave Amelina behind.

Donned in his full battle regalia, Thranduil sat beside her bed and gently stroked her forehead. “Lina, I must go.” Though she stirred, she did not open her eyes or speak to him. “I will return for you, I promise my love.” His voice was filled with regret. He wanted more than anything to be to be there for her when she awoke.

Being a King required immense personal sacrifices. Thranduil knew that even though he was giving her his word he would return, it might be a promise he would be unable to keep. Death was as part of war and there was no doubt in his mind, war was in the air. He could smell it, feel it and taste it. Kings were not immune to meeting their end on the battlefield, Thranduil knew this well. He had watched his King, his Father, fall in battle. Though it was eons ago, at times it still felt like it was but yesterday.

“Be well little one, I will see you soon,” he whispered in Amelina’s ear before pressing his lips to hers. Standing, he mustered the resolve to leave her and return to his people, to his duties. He straightened his shoulders, shifted into the poise of a leader and forced himself to walk away.

Tauriel was waiting for him in the hallway, ready to plead her case. She had just received word that her party would be returning to Mirkwood for battle, but her orders were to stay behind in Lorien. Seeing the look in the King’s eyes, she paused. She had seen him angry, concerned, even furious, but look was different. He appeared pained. As quickly as she noticed it, the look passed from him and she found herself looking into his usual countenance of stony resolve.

“My Lord, I must object to being left behind. I am almost fully recovered and more than ready to fight. I am a captain, I am needed. I wish to defend my home!”

Thranduil’s heart swelled with pride. His daughter was a true warrior, brave, and loyal. Bowing to authority, however, was something she needed work on.  Thranduil feigned a harshness he did not feel. ”Tauriel! Enough! You will stay and assist in guarding the fairy. You will not see combat until you are completely healed. Do not defy my orders again! Now Leave!”

Given that she had indeed defied her King’s orders and the fairy had been injured because of it, she gave up on arguing her cause, this time. She did not want further inflame the King’s temper, he was already displeased with her disobedience. Tauriel nodded. “Yes My Lord.” She looked at the floor dejectedly as Thranduil strode away, the heels of his boots tapping a solid staccato down the marble paved hall.

Elrond offered his assistance to Thranduil despite their tense relationship. He had a company he could send and he himself was willing to lead this force into battle in defense of Mirkwood. Thranduil responded with appropriate gratitude, but declined. What he wanted was to grab Elrond by the lapels and threaten to kill him if any harm came to Amelina while he was gone. He wanted to pin him to the ground and demand that Elrond swear that she would be healthy and strong, fluttering around Lorien and eating flowers when he returned. Instead he nodded curtly to Elrond before turning to his troops and giving the command to ride for Mirkwood.

Elrond watched Thranduil leave and sighed a breath of relief. It was clear the faerie was more to Thranduil than just a simple possession. Still, Elrond did not trust him to have the fae’s best interest at heart. She was in terrible shape and he knew form his healing work with her that she had been used. He was not sure if the King of Mirkwood had simply formed an attachment to a new sex toy, or if he actually cared about her.

He was grateful that she would wake up without the King’s presence so that it could be properly assessed whether she was being held captive as Thranduil’s pet, being held by coercion, or if she actually wanted to be with Thranduil in Mirkwood.

Elrond intended to see that she was free to make her own decisions in the matter. He had no problem incurring the wrath of the King of the Woodland realm in order to see her choose her own path. If it was simply a matter of needing assistance, he could see she was provided with whatever she needed without being beholden to anyone.

Cassiopeia ran to the side of the King’s horse as he was departing carrying a sack. She had put together a care package filled with some of Lorien’s most delectable treats for Thranduil’s journey back to Mirkwood. Each of the items were chosen to remind Thranduil of the times they had spent together. Strawberries and cream, rich dark chocolates and fine elderberry wine. She sprinkled the satchel with droplets of her jasmine perfume.  She knew the longing battle could bring about in wearied soldiers and how the taste and scents of happier times could lead a male back to comfortable places when a war came to its inevitable end. 

Initially, she had been terribly upset by the news he was heading for his homeland. She had carefully been slipping a sleeping concoction into the water the fairy was receiving daily. She had worked hard to combine the ingredients to make a super concentrated formula, as the fae was only getting droplets on her tongue.

It was her hope that once Thranduil realized his pet would not be waking anytime soon, he would cave in and succumb to Cassie’s daily temptations. He had, however, remained steadfast and much to Cassie's chagrin, he had not left his sleeping beauty’s bedside despite her valiant efforts.

Now that he was leaving, Cassie was beginning to see a great opportunity in the King’s departure. She would allow the faerie to regain consciousness in the King’s absence and she would convince _her_ to leave. It was actually perfect now that she thought about it. It would be far easier to convince the faerie to run from Thranduil than to convince the obstinate King to abandon his fae.

***

Legolas sped away from his company, leaving them outside of the gate with his first in command in charge. He wished Tauriel were here, he could use her now. Word had just come to him that Orcs had breached the west wall. The civilian village outliers were under attack.

These were farmers, not soldiers and Legolas knew they would be defenseless against the incoming invasion. He prayed he could reach them in time. His scouts had been engaged in heavy combat, they had been attacked that day on multiple fronts. Legolas cursed himself. He should have anticipated that the Orcs would find a weak spot in his defenses and garner a way in with the scouts so engaged in various battles. He should have left a company inside the walls on the ready to defend those outside of the caves.

He called up a few of the sentries standing guard at the palace as he passed, commanding them to follow him. They rode hard, cutting through brush to shorten the way. Coming upon a ridge, Legolas’ eyes grazed over the farmer’s fields. In the distance he saw her, her ink black hair flying in the wind. She rode a speckled grey mare with no saddle, no reins. Wielding only a large shovel, she bravely stood alone against a platoon of Orcs that were trampling her crops.

Legolas swiftly retrieved his bow, sending off a barrage of quick arrows that took down the most imminent threats to Lilliana. Watching the three Orcs closest to her fall in rapid succession, she turned. Seeing her Prince, her eyes filled with relief. Perhaps there was hope after all.

Liliana was terrified. She had managed to kill two of the Orcs with her shovel, but there were so many of them. She watched them come over the crest behind the field in waves. Her neighbors were fighting too, but they were spread thin, separated by large fields. The Orcs were attacking them in formation under the command of a grey beast wearing only a loin cloth and a patch over one eye.

A putrid stench permeated the air, traveling on the soft breeze. They smelled of rot and death. Their ominous battle cry sent a corkscrew sensation of fear up the spines of the elves defending their families, their land, their homes. It was neither the sound of man nor beast, but a horrible whooping scream that filled the air and left one feeling disoriented. The sound  was a meant to intimidate those they were attacking. It also served to inspire and boost the morale of the Orcs and they appeared to revel in making the most ear piercing yips and squalls one could imagine. All who heard it shuddered in fear.

The Prince’s forces were easily picking off the Orcs from their vantage point on the ridge and Orc carcasses were beginning to litter Liliana’s field and the fields around her. The farmers fought with whatever they had available, axes, hoes and sickles.

Liliana glanced behind her to the doors of her cellar where she had hidden her little brother and her Mother. She prayed the Orc’s would not make it to the house. These creatures had no morals. They cut down everyone in their path including the infirm and children.

To her utter horror, she watched as the large wooden door swung upward and her little brother sprang from the opening. He wore a fierce snarl on his face and carried of all things, a flimsy leaf rake. He lunged forward, his scream as loud as the howls of the Orcs.

He charged directly toward a group of Orcs to Liliana’s left. There were five of them but only one raised his weapon. The others grinned in anticipation of watching their comrade kill the little rat racing towards them squealing like a stuck piglet.

“No!” Liliana screamed, her horse reared as she yanked harshly on the mare’s mane, trying to turn her toward her brother.

***

Thranduil pushed his force forward hard. A shift had occurred, he felt it in his bones. Thoughts of Amelina became his enemy. He could not afford to think of her now. He could not allow himself to feel the ache in his heart over leaving her. He could not entertain the dread that crawled just beneath his skin at the thought he might not ever see her again. With the laser focus of Middle Earth's most formidable warrior, he directed his thoughts to Mirkwood and battle.


	23. Chapter 23

_"All is fair in love and war."_

_\----American Proverb_

Amelina could hear his voice but she could not get to him. She tried so hard to open her eyes when he asked her to, but she could not. She was locked away in a cage inside herself. Once, she had been able to squeeze his hand and he had been so happy, offering her sweet words of encouragement. She wanted to wake up to please him, to see him, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not.

She was parched and the droplets of water on her tongue were such a relief, but they made her slip further into the fog, every time. She could feel his arms around her, hear him telling her everything was okay, that it was just a bad dream, that she was safe. He told her she was healing and getting better. He told her stories and read to her.

Then it stopped, he was gone. As her thoughts cleared and she became surer of the sounds and smells around her, he was not there. There was a new voice, a syrupy sweet voice that spoke words dripping with kindness. The droplets of water on her tongue no longer took Amelina away, but started bringing her closer to the surface. She listened intently for his voice, for any sound of him, but it never came.

It was with great effort that Amelina opened her eyes. The elleth standing above her had been soaking her crusty, caked lids with cool cloths. Still, they stuck as if with glue when she struggled to pull them open. She managed to open one eye, but she could not pry the lids of her other eye apart. She lifted a lead weighted hand to try to force it open.

“Oh here, darling, let me,” the honeyed voice said, dragging a wet cloth a bit too hard against the stubborn lid. The treatment was painful but it broke the seal allowing Amelina to tug the eyelids apart. With both eyes open, she blinked rapidly her blurred vision beginning to sharpen. Hovering above her was an elleth with long black hair and jade green eyes.

She smiled brightly showing two rows of perfectly aligned, white teeth. “You have been out like a light for days, we were not sure you were going to make it,” the strange new elleth said cheerily. Her voice was loud and jarring. Amelina tried to sit up.

“Oh no, it is too soon for that doll.” The elleth pushed Amelina back into the pillows.

“Thranduil,” Amelina croaked, her hoarse voice barely a whisper.

“Oh sweetie, he is long gone. You did not expect him to stay did you?”

“Gone where?” Amelina asked confused.

“Why, he went home doll.”

Amelina’s eyes began to dart around the room as fear gripped her. “Where am I?”

“You are in Lórien. The Lady Galadriel was kind enough to let you come here to be healed, otherwise, you surely would have died. The King of Rivendell, Lord Elrond has been tending to you. He seems quite fond of you. I imagine he will be taking you home with him.”

Amelina sat up in alarm, “But I belong to Thranduil.”

Cassiopeia laughed, slapping her hand on her leg. “I think Thranduil is finished with you. Why, if were not for Lord Elrond and the Lady Galadriel insisting you be brought here, you would be dead. I hear they paid a small ransom for you, sick and all.”

“I have to see Thranduil,” Amelia said trying to get up from the bed.

“Oh dear, you didn’t fall in love with him did you?” Cassiopeia sighed deeply, shook her head and looked down at her hands.

“Well doll, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Thranduil could never love you.You are not even his kind, you are a faerie.” She giggled looking at the celling as if the situation were terribly amusing.

“You were his pet, kind of like his horse, but with a few fringe benefits, do you understand? He did not really care for you, not in the way you seem to think he did.”

Amelina steeled herself, trying not to cry, but the tears welled up and finally, one deep amethyst drop slipped from her weary eye and trickled down her cheek.

“There, there doll. It will be okay. He is gone, you never have to set eyes on him again, you can just forget all about him now!” Cassiopeia said the last part with great enthusiasm.

“No!” Amelina said vehemently , “I must talk to him!”

Cassiopeia took in a long deep breath. “Listen doll, I did not want to tell you this, but Thranduil and I are to be pledged. He has begged me for decades to come to Mirkwood, but it is such a dark and dreary place, I have refused until now. But when he came here, we, well we reconnected if you know what I mean.” Cassiopeia winked. “He has asked me to be his Queen and I accepted!” Cassie clapped her hands and stood, walking around Amelina’s bed.

“He is sending an entire battalion for me once he can guarantee safe passage. I am sorry for you doll,” she said, sitting down by Amelina’s side and taking her hand in hers. “I have been taking care of you since you arrived. He used you terribly and I am sorry for that. I suppose it is partly my fault. He just, well you were more like a pastime for him while he was away from me.”

“But he was here,” Amelina said imploringly, “He was with me.”

Cassiopea looked down at Amelina with pity. “No doll, Lord Elrond and I have been caring for you. Thranduil tossed you off his horse and took his payment for you. He stayed just that one night, and that only to be with me.” Cassie winked.

“Lord Elrond will take good care of you, he is famous for his horse stables. He takes excellent care of his pets. You will be far better off with him than with Thranduil, trust me doll.”

Amelina glanced around the room until her gaze landed on the window. Cassiopeia’s eyes narrowed seeing the fae was looking for an escape route. “If you do not wish to be Lord Elrond’s pet, I can help you to be free,” she said, the corners of her mouth turning upwards.

Amelina stared out the window for a moment and then looked at the beautiful elleth standing over her bed. It was easy to see why Thranduil wanted this elleth and not her. The elleth was tall and beautiful, and one of Thranduil’s own kind. Amelina nodded and spoke.

“I wish to be free.”

Cassiopeia grinned and clapped excitedly. “Very well, I will help you, but you mustn’t breathe a word of this to anyone. If they think you might try to escape, they will lock you away in a cage and I will not be able to help you.”

Amelina nodded again, her shoulders slumped. She felt heartsick. It was all a dream. He hadn’t been here with her while she was sick at all. Everything he had told her was lie. He had brought her here to sell her and left her not knowing if she would live or die.

Cassiopeia handed Amelina a glass of water. She had laced it with the potion that would put the faerie back to sleep. She needed to meet with the dwarf to firm up her plans to turn the faerie over before Lord Elrond or the Lady Galadriel realized the fae had regained consciousness, She needed to make sure the faerie would not awake during the few hours it would take her to make firm plans for the transfer. With any luck, the faerie would be gone by the next day and Thranduil would be hers for the taking.

**

Legolas saw the look of terror in Liliana’s eyes as she screamed. He saw the young lad running courageously, but blindly, to his certain death. Legolas ordered his soldiers to charge as he sent off an arrow off that pierced the head of the Orc raising his weapon against the youth. Two of the other Orc’s fell as Legolas’ arrows dropped them in rapid succession.

Liliana ran her pale grey mare between the remaining two Or’s and her brother. The horse reared and fell as the blade of one of the Orcs pierced its chest. Liliana landed on her feet, wielding her shovel. A grey beast with a shock of coarse black hair reached her. The beast drooled and smiled, raising his hammer, ready to bludgeon her.

Legolas was upon him, slitting his throat from ear to ear with a dagger before the dumb creature ever realized what was happening. His thick black blood flowed from his neck, pooling on the ground around him where he fell.


	24. Chapter 24

_“And the danger is that in this move toward new horizons and far directions, that I may lose what I have now, and not find anything except loneliness.”_   
_―[Sylvia Plath](http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4379.Sylvia_Plath)_

 

Thranduil felt his unease grow as he left Lorien and Amelina behind. For a time he considered going back for her, but no. She was unconscious and weak. Still, he could not shake the feeling the something was wrong. He was not used to second guessing himself but he had a terrible sense of foreboding at leaving Amelina.

As hard as he tried to push her from his mind, he could not. He had felt a pull over the past two days like she was reaching for him, but sinking at the same time. He felt very strongly he needed to be with her to protect her, as if she were in danger. His connection to her was strong. he could almost hear her calling him.

Shaking his head, he again pushed the thoughts of Amelina out of his mind. Mirkwood was under attack, he had no choice but to return to his home to defend it. Legolas needed him, his people needed him. His duties as King required him to return. He did not have a choice and no matter how hard the faerie tugged at his heart strings, he could not abandon his homeland during this time.

He planned on making quick work of this upheaval. He would hit the Orc’s hard, from every direction, chase them to the far edges of the forest and drive them from his land. He would then return for Amelina. Surely she would be well enough to travel by the time he returned and he could bring her to Mirkwood and watch over her and care for her while she made a full recovery. The sunflowers would be in full bloom, she seemed fond of yellow petals, he would take her to the royal gardens. He would continue the work Legolas had started with her, she would make a fine archer.

And there were other talents buried within her. He would help her learn how to harness the wind, to unleash the powers she did not know she had. He would teach what it meant to be pwerful, powerful and free. There were other things he longed to teach her as well.

**

Cassiopeia slipped into the shadows, stealing a glance behind her to be certain nobody was following. The dwarf encampment was just beyond the Lady Galadriel’s realm. They had not known the faerie had been taken out of Mirkwood until Cassiopeia had let it slip to a dwarf passing through Lorien. The fae’s presence was supposed to be kept secret, but Cassie was determined to see the faerie go, and to break the hold she had on Thranduil.

The dwarves had been waiting for her to bring them the faerie for two nights now and they were growing impatient. They would not wait much longer. Thranduil’s constant presence had stalled her plans. Now that he was gone, she could set her scheme in motion. She had come to tell them to be ready, she would be bringing them the faerie that night.

  
**

Amelina heard a deep voice and she fought hard to clear her head of the cobwebs. Now that she had opened her eyes once, it was not as hard to do it again. She had been dreaming of Thranduil and she could feel his hand stroking her cheek, hear him calling her name. Her longing for him made her fight her own body and she forced herself to awake, despite the groggy sludge that seemed to be pumping through her veins. 

Opening her eyes, she startled to see not Thranduil, but a dark haired elf standing over her bed. His voice was soft and his face seemed kind but he was a stranger and Amelina was frightened. Her mind was not completely clear, she till felt an immense heaviness. She struggled to keep it from dragging her back under.

“I am Elrond of Rivendell, I have been tending to your wounds Amelina.” The voice gave her something to latch onto, something in the living world that she followed into full consciousness. Suddenly, her conversation with Cassiopeia came rushing back to her ans she was filled with dread and sadness.  

Amelina closed her eyes tightly, wishing to slip back into the dream she had worked so hard to awake from, the dream where Thranduil was with her. The voice she had moved toward was the voice was her new master. Thranduil was gone. A choking sob escaped her dried lips and Elrond gently patted them with a damp cloth.

“It is okay Amelina. You were badly wounded and I know it hurts, but you are going to be okay.” Elrond turned toward the door and called for someone. Amelina blinked as a dark haired elleth with shimmering crystal blue eyes came in the room. She could not help but to stare, the elleth was perhaps the most beautiful creature she had ever seen.

“This is my daughter Arwen, is helping to care for you. Arwen, perhaps a tincture for her pain?”

The blue eyed beauty nodded, smiling at Amelina, and went over to a table in the corner of the room retrieving a vial.

“This does not taste very well Amelina, but it will help with the pain,” Arwen said, her voice soft and melodic.

Amelina sputtered as Arwen slipped the glass end of the dropper between her lips and squeezed the bitter liquid in her mouth. Elrond immediately put his arm behind her head and lifted her while she struggled and gagged.

The tincture worked quickly an Amelina felt the excruciating pain in her back begin to subside. It made her feel different, peaceful and serene. She began to reevaluate her initial reaction to Elrond. His voice was familiar, his touch was familiar, in a distant way. Amelina studied his face. He was not as handsome as Thranduil, but he did not appear to be cruel. When he placed his hands on her, she could feel the charge coming from him and it helped whatever it was that was running through her blood and ailing her.

Thranduil had thrown her away, sold her like a used goods. The thought was like a sharp shard of glass piercing her heart, the pain so great it was almost unbearable. Almost. Perhaps she could bide her time with Elrond. It was not wise to venture out on her own, not now when she was so sick, so weak. Elrond would not be working so hard to heal her if he wished her harm.

Amelina was certain when her Mother was killed her heart would never heal, but over time her scars grew a rough surface. Although the hurt was still there, she was able to survive. Her heart had not yet healed over the loss of her brother. Now, she would have to deal with the devastation of losing Thranduil as well. It was different though, knowing now that she had been foolish, that he had lied to her, that he never truly cared for her. That and Thranduil was alive, alive and well, and in love with someone else. It made her want to survive despite him. She needed to tell Cassiopeia she wanted more time to make her decision. Staying with Elrond for the time being seemed a wiser choice. Her body and her heart needed to recover in a safe place.

**

“Liliana, are you okay?” Legolas shouted running to her.

“Oh no , Sacha,” she cried, reaching to staunch the bleeding chest of her mare.

“Lily! Lily!” her little brother cried, stumbling through the thick grass.

“Donovan,” Liliana held out her arms to the lad but he stopped, seeing the blood on her hands. Sobbing, he turned and ran. “Donovan!” Lilian jumped up to go after him. Legolas moved briskly to her side, catching her arm.

“Let him go.” His eyes were oddly cold and warm at the same time. Legolas had a naturally cool composure, it was the slight flair in his nostrils that gave his emotions away.

Liliana began crying. For a moment Legolas stood frozen but then he moved forward and took her in his arms. He was remarkably strong. His embrace prevented her from collapsing. She had been brave and she had fought hard but now that the threat had been annihilated, Liliana felt the weight of the terror. She could not wipe away the image of the Orc smiling as he was about to kill her brother. And now Sacha, her faithful mare had fallen and lay dying in her field.

Liliana pulled herself from Legolas and dropped to her knees, cradling the mare’s head in her lap and stroking her ans she cried broken sobs. Legolas knelt next to her. Closing his eyes, he placed both of his hands on the mare’s chest and began chanting. Sacha’s breathing eased and the blood flowing from her chest began to subside.

**  
Thranduil reached Mirkwood’s gate to find his soldiers embattled. There were at least a hundred Orc’s and Mirkwood’s forces were spread thin. Those guarding the gate were greatly outnumbered. With an enraged battle cry, the King lunged his horse forward. He was ready to kill, furious that he had been drawn away from Amelina to deal with these foul beasts. He passed through the middle of the fight wielding two swords, his horse in a full gallop. On the first pass, he took of the heads of thirty Orc’s.

A shout came up from the elves, the King had arrived and the wearied elves rallied. By the time Thranduil made his second pass, over half of the Orc’s attacking the gate had fallen.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ackk, yeah it is summer and I apologize for the delay, writer's block, sun block, the weather has been so nice.....

_All things truly wicked start from an innocence._

_ERNEST HEMINGWAY_

“Liliana, I cannot save her, I can only ease her pain.” Legolas’ tone was apologetic.

Liliana nodded and stroked Sacha’s neck while the horse peacefully took its last breath.

“I’m sorry,” Liliana said scrubbing the tears from her face with the sleeve of her blouse, embarrassed by her lack of emotional control in front of the Prince.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” His tenor was warm and empathetic. He reached out his hand, placing it on her shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” Liliana’s voice held a note of terror and Legolas could feel her trembling.

“You fought well Liliana but it is not safe for you here now.”

“But my crops,” Liliana said looking around worriedly at the damage the trampling Orcs had caused and wondering if the Prince notice the effect his touch had on her body.

“I will see that they are tended to.”

Liliana nodded. Seeing her brother almost killed had ignited a disabling fear deep within her. Liliana found herself very much wanting to take the Prince up on his offer for her to bring her family to the security of the palace caves.

She was well beneath his station and knew better than to entertain her attraction to him, but the safety of her little brother was paramount in her mind. Protecting him was her primary responsibility.

The decision to go to the palace was no longer a question bouncing about in her mind. It was a necessity and she felt very grateful that the Prince had taken such an interest in her no matter how uncomfortable it made her feel knowing he would never be within her reach.

“Gather what you need and come with me now Lily. I fear what may be yet to come tonight….”

Liliana did not miss that he had called her Lily. The way he said it, so endearingly, sent a warm gush coursing through her veins. It worried her, the gravitational pull she felt now in his presence, as if she were in his orbit, as if she were more to him than a mere subject.

Liliana silently cautioned herself not to let her mind wander over the possibilities his concern might have in store for her. He was the Prince, she was a farmer. He was Sindarin, she a lowly Silvan elf, although rumors abounded as to the true heritage of his Mother.

Even if he held a fondness for her, she could never be more to him than a play thing. The future King of Mirkwood would not pledge himself to a Silvan farm girl, though it stood to reason he would likely give her a roll in the hay.

He was above her cast and she knew she must be so careful. She must guard her heart, for one like the Prince could steal such a vital organ straight from her chest and ruin her ability to ever care for another, perhaps even sentencing her to a life of longing for something she could never have.

***

Thranduil came upon Legolas entering the palace. To the King’s surprise, his son walked next to a raven haired elleth who appeared to have garnered the full attention of the Prince. His hand lingered against her lower back and his head was bent in complete attention to her.

Trailing behind them was a young boy elf, gaping wide eyed around the great halls. A gloomy dispositioned elleth marched quietly in step behind them, completely unaware of her surroundings it seemed.

The sight of his son clearly interested in this beauty, who looked much like Thranduil’s own discarded Cassiopeia, actually caused the King a slight glimmer of hope. He had been right to insist Tauriel go with him and Amelia. The separation, it appeared, had forced Legolas to take off the blinders that he wore when he was with Tauriel.

Sensing his Father, Legolas straightened and pulled himself from his charge, bowing his head to the King as he approached.

“We are sustaining multiple attacks on all of our borders Ada, I have never seen such a strong show of force.”

Thranduil nodded. Speaking loud enough for Legolas’ elleth to hear, he placed a long arm on the Prince's shoulder and responded. “You have done well my son, I am proud of your leadership. We shall go on the offensive now and drive them from us.”

Legolas looked into his Father’s eyes, surprised at both the show of affection and the outward compliment. Thranduil’s eyes traveled over to the small family of elves Legolas had in his company.

“This is Liliana, her village was attacked. She fought valiantly to protect her brother Donovan and her Mother. She lost her work horse in the battle and a great deal of her harvest. I have offered them sanctuary in the palace.”

Thranduil turned and met the green eyes of the elleth his son was so enamored with. She was unsure and clearly intimidated by the presence of the King, and already on her knees before him. Thranduil walked to her and took her hand, bringing her back to a standing position.

“Welcome Liliana. Legolas will see that your horse is replaced with a work horse of your choice from the royal stables. My servant will attend to you and your family and introduce you to your quarters. I will send Legolas to check on your wellbeing once we have driven every last Orc from Mirkwood. I am afraid, I require his expertise for now, however.”

Liliana rewarded the King with a bright smile and a curtsy. Lowering her head she shyly muttered “Thank you My Lord.”  
Legolas stood frozen, gaping at his Father as if he had lost his mind. He had never seen his Father behave in such a manner.

Thranduil moved, his cape swishing past the Prince. “Legolas.”

Knowing that was his cue, Legolas offered a quick smile and raised one hand to Liliana, placing the other over his heart before turning to follow his Father. He walked away from her with his head held high, basking in the high regard and complimentary demeanor the King had shown toward him in front of her. He suppressed a giddy urge to jump up and kick his heels together despite the impending darkness of the relentless attack upon Mirkwood.

***

It was late when Cassiopeia returned to Amelina’s bedside. She was cautious checking the hallway and keeping her voice low in a conspiratorial whisper.

“We must leave tonight Amelina, we cannot delay.”

“I have changed my mind, I have been alone out there, I know how hard it is to survive and how easily I can be captured. Elrond seems kind and I have decided to stay and regain my strength with his help, for now.”

Cassiopeia blinked. She had not expected this kind of flak from the faerie.

“You spoke to Elrond?” Cassiopeia asked incredulously. By her calculations, the fae should not have woken, as a matter of fact, she should not be awake now. Had she given her the wrong dose of the sleeping potion? How long had she been awake? And worst of all, what kind of exchange did she have with Elrond?

“Yes, he was very kind to me as was his daughter. I no longer wish to go. I will not survive in the wilderness on my own, I am still very weak. I can hardly get from the bed on my own.”

“Amelina, I did not want to tell you this, but you are not to stay with Lord Elrond. He is not the one who purchased you.” Cassie squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. “Lord Elrond was commissioned to heal you, but you have been sold to the dwarves, to King Thorin and his entourage .”

Amelina blinked her complexion sallow and wearied.

“The dwarves, I am afraid, were the highest bidders. Thranduil put you on the auction block Amelina. Elrond did not want you as bad as the dwarves did. He is merely being paid handsomely to make you well and hand you over. If you wish to be free, we must leave tonight. I have a friend who will help you. You can stay with her until you are completely recovered, but we must leave tonight, the dwarves are on their way to retrieve you.”

A purple tear slipped from the corner of Amelina’s eye. Her only wish was to be with Thranduil. She choked back a sob at the thought of him. Knowing now he had sold her, without regard, to the highest bidder, cut so deeply it was hard for her to think much less find the will to make such a difficult decision.

No matter how devastatingly painful Thranduil’s betrayal was, Amelina felt that place deep inside her that wished to survive, despite the pain, despite the challenge, despite the utter impossibility of her situation. She clasped her hands together and wrung them, taking in a deep breath.

“Very well, if I am not to stay in the company of Lord Elrond, I will leave tonight. I have nothing to pay your friend for her care and I hate to be a burden. It will probably be several weeks before I am well enough to travel on my own.”

Cassiopeia smiled reassuringly. “Don’t you worry, my friend is happy to help you and requires nothing in return. Now let us make our plans. We must be sure we escape without detection, otherwise you will end up caged in the mountain realm of the dwarves and goodness knows what things those filthy creatures will do to you.”

Amelina knew now about those things. Thranduil had abruptly introduced her into the world of those confusing “things.” She blushed thinking about the pleasures he had shown her. She could not imagine being forced to engage in those types of acts with the dwarves, although she knew she would be lying if she said she could not imagine revisiting them with Thranduil. To her utter shame and loathing, she still imagined doing those "things" with Thranduil all of the time, despite the fact he had sold her.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is going to get ugly, read at your own risk......

**_"I see the dream and I see the nightmare, and I believe you can't have the dream without the nightmare."_ **

_**\--author unknown** _

 

Cassiopeia was impatient. Amelina was difficult to rouse and painstakingly slow. Each step, it seemed, was an effort for her.

“If you do not move any quicker we will be discovered!” Cassie hissed. Amelina took in a sharp, painful breath and tried to walk faster. Holding the tears at bay, she forced herself to push past the pain, although the exhaustion kept her several paces behind her guide.

The night air was warm as they slipped beyond the boundaries of Lorien into the dense, dark forest. Amelina felt a terrible sense of foreboding, but with her heart shattered by Thranduil’s betrayal, she knew she could no longer rely on her intuition.

She had trusted him with everything, despite the pain he had caused her. She had been wrong to do so. He had never cared for her all. He had used her, and then sold her when he had had his fill. He lied to her to keep her in line until he could turn her over to the highest bidder.

How foolish she was to have believed he might love her. The sweet longing she felt for him now left a bitter taste in her mouth and a rancid churning in her stomach. She wished she had thought to grab the pain tincture from the table in her room before they had left. Her back burned and her chest ached badly. Her legs that were normally quick and nimble felt as though lead weights were tied to them with each imposing step.

“This way!” Cassie said harshly in a hushed tone, standing on tiptoes to look behind Amelina, making sure they were not being followed. They had been traversing for what seemed like hours to Amelina through thorned bushes that scratched her bare legs. The bottoms of her feet bled from the nettle pickers. Cassie wore shoes but did not think to bring any for Amelina.

Soon, a dim light could be seen in the distance. Amelina grew apprehensive as male voices drifted over them, carried on the smoke from the campfire.

“It is only my friend’s brothers, they have come to protect you and take you to her house,” Cassie said, irritated with the faerie’s hesitation. Amelina fought back the fear. It took every ounce of strength she had to put one foot in front of the other. Her pain was so great that her features were contorted. She stumbled and fell, her legs weak and barely able to hold her weight.

Cassiopeia hailed the scout keeping guard outside the circle and Amelina was felled upon before she knew what was happening. A coarse burlap hood was roughly shoved over her head and her arms and legs were bound tightly with ropes that cut into her skin. She heard Cassie’s mild protests before the darkness took her.

***

Let us make quick work of this Legolas.” Thranduil spoke without turning.

“Father, I have never seen such an attack on so many fronts. This is unprecedented.”

“I have seen this before. We must not linger or hold back. We will meet them on the offense and drive them from every inch of our lands.”

“Yes Father,” Legolas said, moving to assemble what force he could that was not already embattled on the front. Volunteers were being pulled from every niche.

“Legolas, my Father was a warrior, I can fight” Liliana argued.

“No! If you were to die, what would become of your brother? You have responsibilities here, ” Legolas insisted as Liliana tried to take up arms and join the others in fighting off the massive Orc invasion.

“But what will become of Donovan if the Orcs overtake us?” she implored. Legolas would have none of it.

“You will not fight Lily, you will stay here with your family. If the Orcs penetrate the palace, you may take up a sword. Until then, you will stay within the safety of these walls, do you understand me?” Liliana was taken aback by his harsh response, his nostrils flared and she knew this was an argument she could not prevail in.

“Yes My Lord,” she huffed angrily, swishing her skirts behind her and showing him her back.

“Liliana!”

She turned, furious, and was caught completely off guard when he seized her by the waist and pulled her against him. His descended upon her taking her mouth in his, hard. His passionate kiss turned her knees to butter. She clasped her arms around his neck for balance.

“My Lord!” Their embrace was broken by the frantic voice of a soldier coming upon them. “The gate has been breached again!”

“Promise me you will be here when I return,” Legolas insisted, his vivid blue eyes boring into hers.

“Yes My Lord,” Liliana responded breathlessly, knowing she could not disobey him.

Legolas turned on his heal and broke into a run to defend the gate.

***

Thranduil poured himself a long draw of Dorwinion wine. It had been six days, almost a week since he had left Lorien and Amelina. The fighting had been fierce and although the elven losses were few, the landscape was littered with the rotting corpses of Orcs. A putrid stench filled the air as his exhausted forces began the cleanup.

Reluctantly, Thranduil realized that another night would pass before he could assemble a company to return to Lorien to retrieve Tauriel and Amelina. He took comfort in the fact that enough time had elapsed for Amelina to be well on the mend and better able to make the trip back to Mirkwood than if he had been allowed an earlier return to her. He had worried that he might be rushing her in his desire to bring her to back his home so quickly. That thought would no longer trouble him now that he had been forced into a lengthy battle with the invading Orcs.

After taking the time to order that preparations be in place for his company to leave at first light, Thranduil retired to his room, his thoughts consumed with his faerie and his reunion with her.

***

Amelina gasped for breath. A gag was wrapped tightly between her parted mouth and the knot cut into the back of her neck. The air smelled strongly of sweat, ale and smoke. Through the thin material of her shift, she could feel the pads of stubby fingers sharply pinching her nipples and hear the drunken giggles around her.

“Take it off, I want to see her titties!”

Amelina felt rough hands pulling off her nightdress and the cold night air assaulted her bare skin.

“Look, she’s got no hair down there,” a youthful voice exclaimed.

“Oh, she is as smooth as a baby’s bottom,” a deeper voice crooned. A sweaty palm cinched over her sex. Amelina cried out and tried to jerk away. A communal laugh came up from the crowd.

“We’ve got ourselves wild one fellows!” someone said jovially. Amelia felt the tight grip of rough skin on her ankles as her legs were dragged apart. The one who mounted her was hairy, his thick beard scratched against her face. He chuckled and his onion laden breath invaded her nose.

She heard the clinking of his belt buckle and felt him pulling his breeches down. The bulbous end of his staff pressed against her sex. She tried to struggle, but she was quickly clamped in place by more hands than she could count.

She was dry, still feverish and the penetration burned, but he was blessedly small, tiny in fact compared to Thranduil. Amelina sobbed as he finished quickly and rolled off of her, only to feel another coarse haired dwarf crawl upon her.

***

Elrond stormed into the room in the wee hours of the morning once he had been informed by the nurse that the fae was missing. He immediately ordered a grounds search and called for Galadriel to be notified. Amelina was still battling a deep infection, she was weak. It seemed impossible she would have left of her own accord with nothing but the slight frock she wore in her sick bed.

Nothing else was missing from the room, there were no signs of a struggle. Where had she gone? He questioned every servant, every guard personally. Not one had witnessed her leaving. After exploring every avenue, he began question each elf who had retired to their chambers for the night, rousing them from their meditations.

Something struck him as odd when Cassiopeia was brought before him. She seemed unusually alert and composed, pausing to think before answering the simplest of questions that the others blurted out easy responses to. Still, there was nothing he could put his finger on to cause suspicion so his dismissed her and moved on.

An eager guard reported to him that nothing had been found on the grounds and Elrond sighed in frustration as he walked briskly to meet with the Lady of Lorien. Tauriel silently joined him in the hallway dressed for battle and and appearing as if she were ready to lop off heads. 


	27. Chapter 27

_“The caged bird sings with a fearful trill,_  
_of things unknown, but longed for still,_  
_and his tune is heard on the distant hill,_  
_for the caged bird sings of freedom.”_  
_―[Maya Angelou](http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3503.Maya_Angelou)_ _[  
](http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/1413589) _

 

Dawn was barely breaking as Thranduil set out with his company. He felt good, having fought alongside his son. Legolas had grown strong and competent, wise beyond his years. Nothing could please the King more than his son’s new love interest. Liliana was a strong elleth, a bit young, but a worthy match for Legolas from what he could see thus far. The King felt confident as he left for Lorien to retrieve Tauriel and Amelina.

The attack had been unusual and he would not linger long there. Thranduil knew he needed to be in Mirkwood, darkness was afoot. He would thank Elrond for his assistance as well as the Lady Galadriel, and return home immediately with Amelina. Things would be different for her now, better for her.

Tauriel would still be enamored with Legolas, but Thranduil was certain that a great deal of her obsession was simply youth and position. Legolas was Tauriel’s superior, she looked up to him, but Thranduil intended for Tauriel to rise to the highest rank in Mirkwood along with his son.

She too would have access to everything that was his when she was ready. Legolas was her elder and perhaps it had been a mistake to hand over so much of her training to the Prince. Thranduil had hoped they would be close, just in a different way. It should be easy to find a proper suitor to distract her from Legolas, especially now that another elleth had captured his interest

A day had passed into the ride to Lorien and Thranduil was deep in thought, planning to commission a special faerie garden for Amelina. A set of three heavily armed riders came upon them, traveling fast. The thought of threat was quickly dispelled, these were elves of Lorien, their people’s emblems emblazoned on their garb.

“My Lord Thranduil,” an elf on a brown stallion bowed his head in acknowledgement before continuing, “I regret to inform you that the fae has escaped.”

“Escaped? What do you mean escaped?”

“Lord Elrond is out with one of four search parties, but it appears she flew away during the night.”

There must be some mistake, Thranduil thought, his heart beginning to pound.

*****

Amelina lost track of how many days they travelled. After the first night, something spooked the dwarves and they no longer used her. They rode hard, stopping only for short periods to rest and eat. Most of the food they offered her was not of the kind she was capable of digesting. She grew weaker, barely conscious, until one of them figured out she could take honey.

They arrived at their destination in the heat of a midday sun. Amelina was unpacked with the gear and slung over someone’s shoulder with no more care than a sleeping roll. The dwarf carrying her was sweaty and unbathed. His smell made Amelina gag, although she knew she was in dire need of a wash herself.

By some miracle, perhaps Lord Elrond’s excellent talent in the healing arts, her wounds were no worse for the wear. No doubt, the honey had helped her as well. Honey was liquid gold to faeries. It provided her with the only nourishment she consumed on the trip, but it was enough.

She felt the change in the air as she was carried over the threshold of a cavernous abode. Being upside down did not allow her to gain her bearings, however, and she felt dizzy as she heard first the welcoming voice of a female, then horrible screeching as she was dropped unceremoniously to the floor.

“You get that filthy thing out of my house Nordi Blankenship!”

“Now wait a minute darling, she is worth her weight in gold, I brought her for us!”

Amelina heard a sharp cracking sound.

“Now why did you go and do that goodwife? I bring you home a treasure that will make us rich beyond our dreams and you strike me for all of my trouble?”

“You old fool! Do you think that sickly thing is worth a single coin?”

Amelina tried to focus, her vision still blurry as the chubby female dwarf walked to her side and roughly jerked her legs apart. She pulled up Amelina’s shift and wiped her fingers into the folds of Amelina’s sex before bringing her hand to her nose. Her rheumatic eyes grew wide and her mouth drew into a snarl.

“You filthy pig Nordi!” She snorted before barreling a path straight into her husband and tackling him to the floor. She punched him several times, bloodying his nose.

“You mated with that filthy, diseased creature! You have brought sickness and shame to our house!”

“No my sweet Hilda, it was not me, the others had her but I remained true!” Nordi gurgled as he reached to feel the bridge of his nose, fearing it had been broken.

“You lying idiot!!” she hissed punching him again, “I know the foul stench of your pleasure, I have endured it for far too many years not to recognize it.” Hilda drove her point home by kneeing her wayward husband hard in the crotch.

Nordi howled in pain, clutching his hands between his legs and rolling away from her. He had known his wife would not be pleased, but he thought he could coax her past all of her objections with the promise of wealth. He had, after all, brought home a faerie.

“She is sickly Nordi, nobody would pay for such an infirm, infected animal! She is worthless you pervert!!!”

Nordi rose up on his elbows, watching his wife huff heavily, her huge bosom’s rising and falling with each flare of her nostrils.

“She was a gift for you my love,” he said softly, trying to look offended but only succeeding in looking like a little boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar.

“Fine Nordi, then I will dispose of her while you go and wash the contamination off of yourself! You will not share my bed until we are certain you have not been defiled by her disease!”

Submitting reluctantly, Nordi shakily rose to his feet and slumbered off for a good scrubbing and a dose of cologne that would mask any lingering scent of the sweet faerie he had tasted and longed to feast upon again.

After her husband slunk away, Hilda glared at Amelina with contempt. She was stout and strong, Amelina was taller than her, but that did not matter much since she was unable to stand. She tried to pull up the strength to fly, by her reserves were empty. Instead she curled up into a ball as Hilda crossed her arms and cursed.

Jerking her roughly to her feet and more or less dragging her, Hilda pulled Amelina through what seemed like endless hallways without speaking a word to her and without care for her condition. Amelina had the sensation that they were moving downward, deep into the ground.

Although she was dressed in rather dowdy clothing, Hilda seemed to have a great deal of power as several dwarves in uniform jumped at her commands once they had descended deep into the bowels of the place she had been brought to. Amelina found herself being shoved into a dark, cold room.

A large cage stood in the center containing a bedraggled eagle. “Set it free, it will not survive anyway,” Hilda barked as the two uniformed dwarves in the room scrambled to obey. Amelina looked at the guant, giant winged beast. It’s black eyes seemed to regard her with pity.

Amelina felt rough hand grab her and shove her through the iron bars of the cage once the bird was taken out. She screamed as the metal burned into her flesh, thrashing wildly. There was nowhere to put her feet, nothing to hang from, and nowhere to go that did not burn.

Angry hands jerked her out of the cage. “She is a faerie, iron burns her,” a guard hissed. Amelina reeled in pain, the smell of her own singing flesh assailing her nostrils before she eagerly succumbed to the nothingness that took the pain away.

*****

Blinking in the dim light, she awoke. The voices were gone. Sitting up her back touched something cold and she felt her flesh burning again. She jerked away and then held still as a statue, gasping. The air was cold and musty. She felt the floor beneath her, it was wood, rough wood. A splinter cut through her skin as she brushed her hand over it.

Her eyes adjusted to light and she spun around, she was surrounded by bars. A cage, she was in a cage, the cage the eagle had been in. Purple tears quickly blurred her vision and she collapsed onto the prickly wood. She let her mind go to Thranduil. He would search for her, he would find her. She just needed to survive until he came for her.

Being caged, alone in this dark place was her worst nightmare, but she held onto the image of _him_ amidst her terror. She closed her eyes, imaging. She could almost feel his arms around her. She would survive. Thranduil would rescue her. He would find her, she just knew he would. He had to or she would die.


	28. Chapter 28

_I never knew any more beautiful than you:_  
_I have hunted you under my thoughts,_  
_I have broken down under the wind_  
_And into the roses looking for you._  
_I shall never find any_  
_greater than you.”_  
_― Carl Sandburg_

 

 

Without any natural light, Amelina soon lost track of time. The days and nights began to blur. She held onto the fantasy that Thranduil was looking for her, that he would rescue her. For a time she was able to convince herself that Cassiopeia's words to her were just a bad dream. She had to believe in him in to get through the trauma of what had happened to her, that night with the dwarves, and then the cage. As the weeks began to pass, how many she had no way of knowing for sure, reality began to settle in.

Thranduil was the reason she was here. He had sold her and he was not looking for her. He would not be coming to rescue her. In a fit of rage, she grabbed the door of her cage and fumbled with the lock. It was made of thick iron and had a keyhole. She cringed at the hissing sound her flesh made as it burned.  Her efforts were of no use. Amelina crumbled to the rough, makeshift wooden floor in shock and defeat. The horrific pain of the burns on her hands felt oddly relieving. It took her mind away from the agony of Thranduil’s betrayal and the sickening realization she would never see him again. Her tears turned from deep purple to clear as she held her breath against the savage, relentless pain on the charred flesh of her hands. Physical pain was easier than Thranduil pain.

Nobody ever unlocked the door of her prison. Once a day, a guard came in and tossed scraps of food through the bars. What Amelina looked forward to the most were the large, bowl shaped leaves the sentry brought to her and squeezed through the narrow openings between the iron rods. She would reach out, gently cupping the leafy greens that were filled with water, trying desperately not to spill a single drop of the precious liquid.

Her caretaker tossed a full bucket of dirty water over her every once in awhile. This was her bath, but also served to cleanse her enclosure.  Amelina learned to save a leaf or two to catch the water from the bucket. When she was alone, she would undress and wash herself thoroughly. if there was enough water left, she would do her best to clean her clothing with it. The worst part about it was the chill she caught when wet and she soon developed a nagging cough that never left her.

She tried to talk to the guard once, he looked up at her as if he were genuinely surprised she could speak. That had been the only time he had ever made eye contact with her. He had stared at her for a long moment before walking up to the edge of the cage. He opened his mouth wide so she could see the stub where his tongue should be. Then he walked away and never looked directly at her again. Amelina realized he was a prisoner too, in a way, and that he would not ever be able to help her or even speak to her.

****

Thranduil’s company joined in the search for Amelina, but it appeared she had simply vanished. He was furious, how could she be so reckless? She knew the dangers that lurked out there for a lone faerie. The most gut wrenching thing for him was the knowledge that she did not care for him the way he cared for her, that she took the first opportunity she had to leave him. His heart ached in a way it had never ached before. He had known the pain of loss, but death was the culprit, not betrayal.

He would have let her go, all she had to do was tell him she did not care for him and he would have seen her safely to wherever she wanted to go.  Instead she stole away like a thief in the night, seemingly intent on humiliating him. He had gone to great lengths for her, to bring her to Lorien to be healed. He had risked his life and the lives of his guards, all for her. This was how she had chosen to show her gratitude to everyone who had tried to help her. She had spit in his face.

Nonetheless, he searched tirelessly, leaving no stone uncovered for weeks. Strangely, after the massive Orc attack on Mirkwood, there had been no more, although all of the search parties did encounter wild bands of Orc’s roaming the forests. It was as if they were looking for something too. By the end of the third week, Thranduil’s broad shoulders sagged slightly as he rode upon his mammoth black stallion. Amelina was gone, really gone.

Tauriel rode behind the King as a light rain began to fall. She hung her head. He had given her orders to stay and help protect the faerie. In her mind, the threat that had loomed was that of an attack, an invasion, and she had kept her weapon with her at all times, ready to take up arms should any force try to kidnap the fae during the King’s absence.

The last thing she expected was for the sickly, frail creature to sneak away into the night on her own. Nobody expected such a thing, which was perhaps why she was not kept under constant surveillance. Still, Tauriel felt as though she had failed Thranduil.

Initially, she thought the King to be livid with her, but it soon became clear he was just livid at the situation and was taking it out on everyone. He was short and belligerent with her, but she saw very quickly it was not personal, he was acting this way with everyone.

Now, after weeks of searching had passed, his demeanor had shifted to one of melancholy. He was quiet and morose, checking even the bones found in the spider’s lairs for the remains of the faerie. Tauriel realized that the King had moved past being angry and was now immersed in grief.

She knew the fae had meant something to him, but she had thought his feelings for her to be superficial. It was evident now that he had cared deeply for her.  He loved her, Tauriel thought, surprised at this knowledge. She had not thought the great ElvenKing capable of such. It was time now for him to return home. Tauriel sensed he understood the search was coming to and end. He would have to learn to live with not knowing what had happened to the fae. The rainy season had begun, any trail would soon be washed away. But the faerie had left no trail, if she had, the King would have found it.

Tauriel followed the Thranduil through the muddy trails, the horses hooves sank and the going was slow. By the time they arrived back at Lorien, they were drenched and exhausted.

“We will leave for Mirkwood tomorrow Tauriel, see that the company is prepared.” Thranduil gave the order without even looking at her.

“Yes My Lord” Tauriel’s voice was soft and quiet as she acknowledged his command. She understood this was the acceptance of their failure to find Amelina. She would tread very lightly around her King for some time, so as not to trample on the broken pieces of his heart that he seemed to be wearing on his sleeve.

*****

Thranduil undressed solemnly at the side of one Lorien’s hot springs. He needed to wash away the grime, the mud, the hurt and the sadness. He had prayed that he would not come upon her body or her bones, no matter how bitter he felt towards her or how much he would like to punish her. The thought of her having been hurt and killed cut too deep to imagine. Now, he would have to face eternity not knowing, not knowing if she were dead or alive.

He was naked, but had yet to step into the heated water when he sensed the presence behind him and turned. “Galadriel,” he said. They stood for a moment in silence in the darkness, his nakedness not causing any discomfort for either of them.

“I did not sense her death Thranduil. It is as if she shrouded in darkness, somewhere deep where I cannot see. I believe she lives.”

Thranduil nodded. Galadriel was a formidable elf, but she dabbled too much in wizardry. If she could “sense” Amelina then the faerie would not have escaped without her notice. He would not be rude to her though, she had been a gracious hostess.

“I appreciate your assistance, both in making her well enough to flee, and trying to determine her whereabouts. I am indebted to you My Lady.” Despite his grief, Thranduil stifled a smile. The Lady Galadriel was bold, willing to stand in front of him naked and look him straight in the eye. She wanted to look at all of him, he was certain of that, but she refrained. He turned from her, feeling her eyes bore into his back as he stepped into the warm water of the pool.

******

Returning to his chambers, he was surprised, although he should not have been, to find Cassiopeia there. She poured him a goblet of wine and he accepted it willingly. He did not object when she untied his sash and pulled open his robe as if she were drawing apart curtains to reveal her hidden prize.  

 

 

 


	29. Chapter 29

_“Maybe that's what love is. Having someone who guides you through different experiences, coaxes you to try news things but still makes you feel safe.”_

_― Wally Lamb_

 

The long table in the King’s dining room was set for two. The settings were simple, but elegant. A spray of new daffodils was the only decoration aside from the long tapered candles, just two, that provided a soft glow for the evening meal.

Thranduil had been gone for nearly a month now and aside from a few spiders, all had become eerily quiet in Mirkwood as if the eye of the Dark Lord had shifted away from where it had been focused just weeks before.

Legolas came in and surveyed the table, nodding his approval. His hair was freshly washed and braided. He was wearing his usual attire, he did not wish to make too much of this occasion, this first date with Liliana. He was uncertain if she harbored the same attraction for him that he had for her, but tonight, he hoped to find out.

Legolas ordered the guard to escort Liliana to the dining hall, but then quickly stopped him, thinking better of it. She was intimidated by the pomp and circumstances of being catered to by Mirkwood’s royalty. He had no desire to make her uncomfortable tonight.

Swallowing his own nervousness, he steadied hid composure and left to retrieve his date at her doorstep where she was staying, in one of the many apartments of the caves. Those going about their daily business were surprised to see the Prince walking alone through their halls. The crowds parted with bows.

A child handed him a chocolate from the bag of treats she was holding, staring at him in awe. Legolas went down on one knee in front of her, popping the treat in his mouth. He closed his eyes as he chewed. “Mmmmm, that was the best chocolate I have ever eaten. Thank you.” The golden haired child gave him a toothy grin and giggled. He tousled her hair as her Mother curtsied.

Truthfully, the attention he was getting made him uncomfortable. He quickened his step, trying to smile and acknowledge his many loyal subjects as he passed, wondering if he had made a mistake not sending the servant for Liliana.

By the time he reached her doorway, he felt conspicuous. Not wishing to spend any more time than necessary under the many prying eyes, Legolas rapped on Lilian’s door deftly, the sound of his knocking reverberating rather harshly in his sensitive ears.

He turned, with his hands clasped behind his back and nodded at several onlookers with a sheepish grin as he waited for the door to open. He heard shuffling and then the sharp click as the lock turned and the door opened.

He stood speechless. Everyone and everything around him faded into his periphery as his eyes grazed over the elleth standing in the doorway before him. While he had gone out of his way to appear casual, Liliana had gone out of her way to appear worthy of being invited to dine with Mirkwood’s Prince.

Her gown was a deep green taffeta with a sheer overlay. The neckline plunged, not scandalously deep, but low enough to show the gentle cleavage between the swell of her breasts. The dress was old and spoke of another time. It had belonged to her Mother and Lily had secretly slipped out to retrieve it from her farmhouse when she received the Prince’s dinner invitation. Her hair was long and loose, glistening like black satin.

She had no jewelry to wear, but she had wound a circlet of dainty white and yellow wildflowers for her hair and fashioned a matching wristlet. Her perfume was lavish, rose absolute.  She was allowed the extravagance of such a treasured cosmetic because her mother had loved roses. She had two ampules of the precious scent as a result, a luxury few could lay claim to.    

Liliana scanned over Legolas in his usual brown attire and boots. A rush of crimson crept up her cheeks. She looked down, embarrassed and ashamed that she had misjudged his intentions.  She cursed herself for being such a silly fool. The Prince had probably asked her to dine with him to discuss how she planned to pay for her family to stay in their new quarters. And here she was, playing dress up, trying to look like a princess. The humiliation was almost unbearable.

So enthralled by her appearance, Legolas did not notice her distress until he saw her eyes grow wet. Suddenly, becoming aware again of the prying eyes around them, he gently nudged her into the apartment and shut the door behind them.    

“Lily,” he said tipping up her chin until she was looking at him, ”You are so lovely.”

She blinked twice, taken aback by his comment. He took her hand and leaned down, placing a soft kiss upon it.

  “I….I am overdressed,” she murmured as he eased her hand back down to her waist.

He stared down at her appreciatively and shook his head.

“No, Lily, you are perfect.”

Liliana bit her bottom lip in her nervousness and Legolas became aware of his growing arousal, grateful his tunic hid the effect she was having on him. He smiled offering her his elbow.

“Ready?” he asked, grinning.

“Yes,” she said smiling and taking a deep breath.

“I am afraid we have an audience, hold on tight.”

She took a shaky step outside the door and almost gasped out loud at the crowd lingering there staring at her. Gripping his arm tightly, she tried to follow his graceful steps, but she was unstable and stumbled. He held her up, not missing a step and led her through maze of curious elves. Liliana sighed in relief when they reached the royal hall.

Letting go of her arm, Legolas walked to the end of the long table and pulled out Liliana’s chair. She stood staring for a moment and then suddenly blurted out “Oh!” and rushed to take her seat. She had never had an elf of the opposite gender treat her in such a chivalrous manner before.

“I… I have a small savings that might cover our quarters for a few weeks.” Liliana sputtered the words self-consciously as the first course was served.

Legolas looked at her with confusion. “What?”

“Maybe we could go back home now? I am sorry we do not have much.”

“Lily, what is wrong?”

“I know my family is safe here, but we…our farm is our income and I…..” Liliana looked down at her hands, “We just do not have the means to reimburse you for keeping us.”

Legolas stared at her stunned, not quite sure what to say.

“Lily, you are here at my request for your safety, no compensation will be accepted.”

Legolas reached over the table and placed his hand over hers.

“I asked you to dine with me so I might get to know you better Liliana. You are welcome here. I will help you keep your farm afloat while danger lurks for you and your little brother, and your Mother as well. I want to provide security for you Lily.”

 Liliana dropped the fork she was holding and it clattered to the floor. 

Legolas bend down to retrieve it for her at the same time she fumbled beneath the table for it. Their heads cracked together in a hard thump. Legolas could not help himself and started to laugh. Liliana looked mortified, as if she were about to cry.

“Liliana,” he said taking her hands in his, “Relax.”

  

******

Cassiopeia’s nails cut into his back as she came. Thranduil welcomed his own release soon after. Cassie was good in bed and he appreciated her talent. He no longer wished to be alone, in the wake of the loss of Amelina.

Cassie was not a permanent solution, however. She was not an elf he could abide for more than a night or two. But at least he knew for certain now, he would not choose to be alone any longer. He would not pine away for the faerie who did not want to stay with him. He would find a suitable replacement. He would begin his search as soon as he returned to Mirkwood. He would find a Queen to keep him company and to warm his bed at night.

Thranduil rolled away from the elleth in his bed. “Leave me now Cassie.”

She pouted rubbing his shoulders. “Let me stay Thranduil, I will help you relax.

Thranduil breathed deeply and allowed Cassiopeia to massage him as he drifted into a deep meditation.  Soon after he closed his eyes, images of Amelina began to surface, and he drifted with them, too exhausted now to fight the memories of her, despite the torment that clawed at his heart with her loss.     

 

********

Tauriel laid back on the bed naked as Elrond laid hands on her. She had never felt such release as when he worked to heal her. His hands were magick and after her first few sessions, she had learned to not be embarrassed. She disrobed completely and let go, allowing him full access to all of her wounds, to all of her body. She was almost fully recovered and strong again.

 

 


	30. Chapter 30

  
_“There are memories that time does not erase... Forever does not make loss forgettable, only bearable.”_  
_― Cassandra Clare_

 

Amelina was sound asleep when she heard the rattling of her cage door. The drunken dwarf leered at her. “Hello pretty girl,” he said, holding out a handful of sunflower seeds.

She snatched them from him, backing to the far end of her cage and began crunching on them as quickly as she could. Without enough water, her mouth was dry and a chunk of the chewed seeds stuck in her throat. She swallowed several times trying to get the lump to go down.

The whites of his eyes were yellow and riddled with bloody capillaries. His bulbous nose was reddened. “C’mon sweetheart, come to Daddy,” he said before clicking at her with his tongue and holding his hand out. When she did not move, he whistled and snapped his fingers as if he were calling a dog.

Amelina retreated to the back of her cage, as far away from him as he could get without leaning against the bars.

*****

Thranduil left Lorien and a pouting Cassiopeia behind him, noting that Tauriel seemed to be pouting too. She had not wanted to come in the first place and now she seemed despondent about the prospect of returning home to Mirkwood.

He did not try to engage her in conversation or lift her spirits. She was being a fickle, silly girl, wanting one thing one moment and something else the next. Thranduil had had enough of such nonsense. It was bad enough he had to listen to Cassie’s incessant whining all morning before taking his leave of her. He had been with Cassie and parted from her hundreds of times, now suddenly she had clung to him and begged him to take her with him to Mirkwood. Fickle.

The party was quiet and solemn on the trip back. Thranduil did not stop searching for Amelina, even taking a few excursions from the path to look around for her where he knew there were water sources. She had always liked the water. The scorching pain and dread of knowing she had left him and that he may never discover what had become of her was beginning to cool and turn into a hard cold numbness with each passing day.

*****

Any worries Legolas had about his Father objecting to his growing affection for Liliana was soon dispelled. Thranduil did not seem to care that Legolas was seriously courting the dark haired Silvan elleth. To his surprise, Tauriel did not seem to care much either. Both of them seemed to have returned to Mirkwood with an aloofness that took Legolas by surprise.

He fell easily back into his working relationship with Tauriel. It had been about three months since she had returned with his Father when Legolas finally worked up the nerve to talk to her about Lorien.

“What happened there? Did he blame you for the fae’s disappearance?”

Tauriel looked up at him, her almond brown eyes quickly darting away to scan the trees.

“No, but I feel it was my fault. He told me to help protect her when I begged to return to Mirkwood with him to fight.” Tauriel looked down at her hands. “It is just nobody expected her to leave like that. She was not well…and she seemed genuinely attached to him.”

“You are not to blame Tauriel,” Legolas said firmly. “It is time for you to let this go. You have not been the same since you returned.”

“No, I guess I haven’t.”

Legolas sat down on a large boulder next to her. “What is it that troubles you Tauriel?” Legolas was still worried that his relationship with Liliana had hurt her more than she had let on. In his heart, he still cared deeply for Tauriel and her happiness was important to him.

“It saddens me to see the King this way. I do not wish to leave him, but I miss Lorien and the ones I left behind there.”

Legolas stared at her for a moment, letting her words sink in.

“Was there someone special?” He tried to keep the twinge of jealousy he felt from showing. He had no right to be jealous, he was openly seeing Liliana now and all of Mirkwood was abuzz with the rumors that the Prince would be announcing her as his pledge at the upcoming festival.

“Yes,” Tauriel said standing and turning away from him, letting him know she did not wish to discuss it further. Legolas fought the urge to demand to know the details and the identity of the one who was the source of Tauriel’s wistful gaze in the direction of Lorien.

Sighing, he turned back to the palace, knowing she would follow him. Tonight he would be dining with Liliana and his Father. Tonight, Thranduil was also bringing a guest to dinner. Legolas found his Father’s choice curious. Brandiwen was not at all his Father’s type. She was very proper and quiet, and possessed little skills from what Legolas could see.

The daughter of a high ranking Sindarin couple, she was raised to be aristocratic. Her mannerisms did match his Father’s, but she lacked the kind of spark his Father had always been attracted to and Legolas found her dull. From what he could see, Thranduil found her boring as well. He had been keeping her by his side for weeks now but he seldom even spoke to her. She seemed more like a decoration than a companion to Legolas.

She was beautiful, stunningly so, but her face was often expressionless and cold. Legolas knew his Father could be cold as well, but he was intense and passionate. Brandiwen was flat and seemingly shallow and it detracted from her beauty.

At first, Legolas was glad his Father seemed to be interested in a companion, but the more Legolas watched him with Brandiwen, the more he felt his Father was making a mistake. She did not seem to improve his mood. She did not seem to have the power to move him at all. She was just there, all the time of late.

*****

Thranduil keep feelers out in every direction for any news of the fae. A reward was offered for proof of her fate and he questioned visitors to Mirkwood regularly as to whether or not they had heard any rumors of her whereabouts. Several bounty hunters searched for months in hopes of collecting the generous reward from the King, but to no avail.

For a while, Thranduil saw her every time he meditated. A vision of her eyes open wide against the evening sky often haunted him.  He could never see her face in this vision, only her eyes on a giant scale, glowing purple against the setting sun. Her long feathered lashes would turn into hundreds of birds and fly upwards, scattering into the clouds. Tears would begin to fall from her lower lids, until they turned into a gushing waterfall and then her eyes would close and she would be gone.

After a year, he had several images of her he still held onto but it seemed at times he could not be certain what she had looked like. He could see her long neck and curved bronzed shoulder with her golden flecked hair spilling across it. He could remember what it felt like to touch her, but more and more, it felt like she had just been a dream, that she had not been real.

Brandiwen would make a suitable partner. She was attractive, obedient and never questioned him or caused him trouble. She was an excellent hostess, welcoming his guests and directing the staff as if she were already Mirkwood’s Queen. Perhaps once he had pledged himself to her, she would give him a child.

Legolas was in love with Liliana and had just recently asked for Thranduil’s permission to allow them to be pledged. Thranduil agreed without hesitation. Legolas cared deeply for the raven haired elleth and Thranduil admired her common sense and spunk. She was a smart elleth and her little brother Donovan was one of the few bright spots in the palace nowadays.

Thranduil was bossy and cold toward the child, but Donovan had him figured out and the King often found the youngster tagging along behind him asking all sorts of questions, staring wide eyed at Thranduil’s stories of fighting the dragons in the north and begging to see his wounds.

Tauriel had yet to recover fully from the dampened mood she had returned with from Lorien, but now that it had been announced that they would be traveling to a grand celebration, her pensive state had changed to excitement.  The elves would be gathering, with both man and, unfortunately, a small number of dwarves.

Announcements were expected from both Rivendell and Lorien and Thranduil knew, he too was expected to present Brandiwen as the future Queen of Mirkwood. Legolas would be presenting Liliana.

Thranduil raised his eyebrows and glanced over at Legolas as Tauriel pranced through the hallway chattering with a palace handmaiden. Her exuberance was palpable. Legolas looked from Tauriel back to his Father and shrugged. He felt a little twist in his gut, perhaps now he would find out who it was that had captured Tauriel’s heart while she had stayed with his Father in Lorien.


	31. Chapter 31

“Time _falls on us, like rain, it falls like rain until we drown in it, and sometimes,_

_it's like the drains overflow, and time just - pools up, it seeps, it gathers in the corners.”_

_― Michael Montoure_

 

Thranduil rode far ahead of his entourage. He had done very little to prepare for this trip, allowing Brandiwen to make most of the arrangements. He assigned her a docile mare to ride from his own stable, preferring to have his space as they travelled.

It had been a year and three months since Amelina had left him, but he still found himself scanning the trees for her. Not knowing what had happened to her was a kind of silent torture that he suffered in isolation.  The months had passed without notice, an endless string of days, each no different than the one before, yet it seemed like an eternity had passed since he had last seen her. He was measuring time now with two distinctions, before Amelina and after Amelina. 

Legolas rode with Tauriel, providing security for traveling party while Liliana rode the mare that had been a gift to her from the King. Donovan rode behind his big sister, wrapping his arms around her waist and laying his cheek against her back, trying to stay awake.

Legolas felt the same thrill he always felt when Tauriel rode behind him and a wicked thrill crept up his spine as her breasts brushed against his back. He sat arrow straight, his face betraying nothing and he made sure he kept his eyes firmly in place, patrolling the wilderness around them. He could not risk a glance back at Liliana. She knew him too well now and would sense his arousal. Twice in the past year, her jealously had flared over the long hours Legolas spent with Tauriel. He did not want Liliana to know the effect Tauriel was having on him now.

**

As they neared their destination, the light of lanterns lit the night and several rounds of fireworks exploded in brilliant colors, sending sizzling trailers arching against the black sky.

“Gandalf is here, ” Legolas said to Tauriel and she laughed, a sound he had not heard come from her for a very long time. It gave him goosebumps. The servants moved their horses to the front, picking up speed to arrive ahead of the rest and make preparations for the King.

Brandiwen kicked her mare into a gallop to ride beside Thranduil. She was smiling broadly and looking at the display of lights and vivid colors bursting above them. “It is beautiful My Lord!” she said with uncharacteristic excitement.

“Yes,” he replied wondering what Amelina would have thought of the fireworks, picturing her unchecked wonderment at things that surprised her. But perhaps it was all an act, he thought. She fooled him into believing she cared for him when in fact she had just been waiting for a chance to escape from him.

Thranduil was still deep in thought when his party arrived in front of the large crowds that had already gathered to celebrate Beltane, the birth of summer.  This year the celebration was being held in a small settlement of elves who lived in a forest near the Misty Mountains.

A tribe of long bearded dwarves dwelled alongside them in the mountains where they mined for ore and traded with the elves. Although the nearest town of men was a ride that required over a week of travel, many of them came to join in the festivities. It was an odd mixture, one that was rare, but friendly.

Thranduil and his party were late, but it was the first night and others who had accepted the invitation were not expected until the following day.

Tauriel leapt from the horse as Legolas handed the reins off to a stable hand and she began to expectantly scour the crowd. Legolas sighed wanting nothing more than to follow her but instead turned to Liliana and smiled, catching Donovan as he dismounted, his eyes as wide as his grin. Legolas held out his hand to help Liliana down.  Looking into her eyes, he knew he loved her and he wanted her, oh how he wanted her. He felt as if his heart was being torn in two directions as his eyes scanned the crowd for Tauriel, but she had already disappeared from his sight.

**

Without much fanfare, Thranduil assisted Brandiwen from her mare and asked if she wished to rest.

“No My Lord.” Her cheeks were flushed. “I wish to dance.” Thranduil had seldom seen her glow like this and he reached up and ran his fingers through her hair, the corners of his lips turning upward.

“Very well, but I must attend to some formal greetings first.”

Brandiwen nodded enthusiastically and Thranduil marveled at her unusual brightness. He held out his arm for her and escorted her into the throngs of merry celebrants. His arrival had already been announced by his servants and he was immediately sought out by the Lady Galadriel and shortly thereafter, Lord Elrond.

Introductions were made in a blur and soon Thranduil was placing an empty goblet on a tray as Brandiwen pulled him to wooden planks of the dance floor.  Her excitement was contagious and Thranduil found himself genuinely enjoying her company. He smiled at her pretty blush when she inadvertently stepped on his toes, he was a far more accomplished dancer than she.

Two goblets of wine later they were once again making their way to the dance floor, passing Legolas and Liliana on their way under the lights. Thranduil wondered where Tauriel had gone. He had not seen her since they had dismounted. He frowned, scanning the crowd, noting the dwarves had arrived and were mulling about. He wrapped his arm around Brandiwen's waist, taking her hand in his and began floating her in seductive circle in time with the music.

“You should have let me bring her out to sing,” Thranduil heard a husky male voice croak, the abrasive sound rising up from below his waist. He looked down in disdain at the chubby dwarf couple dancing alongside them. He thought he had smelled something foul. A sharp cracking sound split the air as the stocky female belted the grey bearded dwarf across the face.

“That wicked faerie still has you under her spell!” she whisper yelled at him.  Thranduil paused, standing still and Brandiwen looked up at him

“Are you okay My Lord?”  Thranduil ignored her and started moving again, his attention riveted to the homely, hairy couple next to them.

“Oh come now Bromi, do not be cross,” the hairy dwarf said kissing his wife’s cheek.

“We need to be rid of that filthy siren Filo, once and for all! She should be stoned!”

“Do not be so harsh my love, she is just a little pussy cat, nothing to get all riled about.”

“Look at you Bromi, she has scarred you, and you deserved it! You are as filthy as she is! She has cast a spell on you and the only way to break it is for her to die!”

“No need for violence darling, she is nothing more than a pet, nothing more.”

“Humph, then why do you have teeth marks on your private parts old man? And why is she still alive? You must be feeding her!”

“You are a cruel mistress to let her starve and suffer Bromi.”

“She is a filthy witch and she has enchanted you with her wickedness old man! You are just too blind to see it!”

With that, the bosomy dwarf left her husband standing on the dance floor alone, shaking his head as she stormed off toward the beer keg on her own.

Brandiwen had not been paying any attention to the dwarves when Thranduil pulled her to his chest and squeezed her tightly with each disturbing revelation he overheard. She had happily mistaken his closeness for desire and was secretly thrilled that he seemed to finally be losing his composure. Perhaps tonight he would take her at last and she would be Queen of Mirkwood.

For Brandiwen it was not just the title she desired. She desired him, and had since she had come upon him many years ago bathing in a waterfall. She had seen him, all of him, and no other had captured her imagination in the way he had. He had always appreciated her beauty, he had told her so, although he had always behaved properly. Still, he had taken an interest in her, seeing to her education. She was trained in both the Liberal Arts and in charm school.

Brandiwen had been molded into a high society elleth. Although she knew it meant she would be the mate of a high ranking elf, she always held the hope that the King was grooming her for himself. He had never shown a personal interest in her until the last year, but the past twelve months were a whirlwind for her and she had strived to show Thranduil she would make a perfect queen and mate.

Thranduil did not allow the wobbling female dwarf out of his sight. He watched her down a mug of ale and refill her cup, anger still burning in her cheeks. He quickly excused himself from a startled Brandiwen and made his way through the crowds. He slipped away, following the stumbling inebriated dwarf lady to the darkness of the trees. He moved with stealth, not wanting to be noticed or followed.

When he reached the tree line he heard a trickling in the brush, she was relieving herself. Thranduil rolled his eyes and turned his back, staring up at the moon. He held that stance until he heard the rustling of the trees and the snapping of branches. She emerged from the tree line and growled seeing the tall figure waiting for her.

“Stay away from me or I will scream!” she threatened haughtily. Thranduil bowed deeply before her.

“Forgive me my lady, although you are lovely in the moonlight, I have no intentions of molesting you.” His voice was soft and calming like a gentle stroke of velvet. The dwarf relaxed and Thranduil marveled that she had almost as much hair on her arms as her male counterpart. He tried not to stare at the thin mustache that grew over her upper lip. He checked his revulsion and took a step back, looking at her respectfully.

“I heard you speak of a faerie. I have seen many things as an ElvenKing, but I would pay well to see a faerie.”

Her droopy eyelids opened slightly as she raised her chin to look up at him.

“How well?” she slurred.

Thranduil pulled a velveteen pouch from beneath his burgundy, gold gilded dress cape. He loosened the silk twine and poured a handful of coin into his large palm. The lady dwarf stared in disbelief. It was more money than her family could earn in a year’s time, and a good year at that.

“She is not much to see My Lord, she is sickly,” the lady dwarf said licking her hairy lips, never taking her eyes from the metal in the King’s hand, shinning under the moonlight.

“I understand. Take me to her and this shall be yours,” he said lightly as if the money were inconsequential.

“Follow me,” she rasped in an eager voice. 


	32. Chapter 32

_"Now they stood beside the treasure, On the mountain, dark and red._

_Turned the stone and looked beneath it... "Peace on Earth" was all it said."_

_\---One Tin Soldier_

 

 

Thranduil felt a prickling under his skin, a strange anxiety. It might be her, but it could be someone or something else entirely. He did not want to get his hopes up. Faeries were rare though, and an odd sense of anticipation enveloped him. He steeled himself, not wishing to betray the storm of emotions whirling inside of him.

The drunken she dwarf stumbled in the darkness, cursing. “It is not much farther.” She licked her lips and stared at the pocket Thranduil had concealed the bag of coin in. She was breathing heavily with exertion.

As they reached the entrance to an underground cave she stopped. “Give me the gold and I will tell you where she is.” Wariness was written all over her face and something else, fear, or perhaps guilt.

“I will give you your pay, but if she is not there you will be dead before the sun rises.” The King’s mistrust was equal to that of the dwarf woman.

“She is there My Lord,” Bromi muttered superstitiously, ”But guard yourself mighty King, she is bewitching!” Thranduil pressed the soft velvet bag heavy with metal into her eager, trembling hand.

“Go to the third hall and then left, follow it all the way down. She is at the very end. It is a bit of a way, I am afraid, but there will be nothing and no one to to bother you.  There is naught here but storage cellars.

Thranduil nodded, attempting to be noncommittal. He pretended this was nothing more than another excursion of a rich King seeking a thrill; a trophy hunt for an exotic creature he could add to his repertoire and brag about to those beneath him who would never have the opportunity to experience such an extraordinary encounter.  

Entering the underground chambers, Thranduil felt as though he were entering a tomb.  The air, although it held a biting chill, was dank and smelled of mold. A single torch in the deep hallway, far past the maze of various storage chambers, provided the only light for the room she was being held in. Taking the flare from its sconce on the wall, Thranduil crouched through the crudely carved arch shape in the rock and stepped into the dark, dismal place that was Amelina’s home.

Hanging from the ceiling in the center of the cave dwelling was a large, iron birdcage. In the dim shadows, he could only make out a small heap at the bottom. As he moved the light closer, she stirred, causing her cell to sway slightly. With his heart in his throat, Thranduil stepped in, bringing the full light of the torch to bear upon her.

She rose to a kneeling position and looked up through a scraggly mane of matted hair that had grown longer since her had last seen her. He stood in stunned silence, his anger and hurt momentarily forgotten. The creature before him barely resembled the one he remembered, the one who still haunted his dreams.

This was a ghost of the Amelina he had known. Her cheeks were deeply sunken and her complexion unnatural and waxen. The purple eyes that always, in his memory, glowed like bright amethyst stars were dull and vacant, the translucent skin underneath appearing more purple now than her eyes themself.

She blinked and brought her spindly, grubby fingers to her clumped eyelashes and rubbed them, taking in a long shallow breath, then she blinked again rapidly trying to focus. There in the desolate depths of her eyes was the faintest glimmer of surprise, a hollow surprise. She raised her arm and reached out to him. Thranduil was aghast at her emaciated state. Her arm cast a stick silhouette on the dirt floor next to his feet, finely shod in tall, supple, black leather boots.

The boney outstretched twig that was her forelimb brushed against the iron bars of her cage and she gasped, jerking back in a spasm. The scent of burnt flesh wafted past him and the marks of countless such errors presented themselves as he examined the pattern of scars adorning her pasty flesh that had replaced the burnished, sun kissed glowed image he held of her in his mind’s eye.

Her thin, crusted lips parted as if she were about to say something, but no words came from her. She made not a sound.  He half expected for her to beg, to grovel for his forgiveness and when she offered not so much as an apology for her indifference for him, for leaving him with no explanation, without so much as a goodbye, he felt the heat of his rage rise up within him.

“So this is what you chose Amelina, instead of me!” He glared around the room, surveying her dank surroundings, furious at the conditions. “You have done well for yourself my dear. I do hope you are happy.”

Amelina stared into his eyes. She knew better now than to hope, all vestiges of faith had long left her. All that ever was lay dormant inside of her. Still, she stared into his eyes, so blue, like a horizon and tried to memorize them, to burn them into her mind, like the mosaic of crisscross brands tattooed on her arms and legs from her cage.

The images she could see against the back of her eyelids when she closed them were her only solace. His eyes....Him... this was the picture she wanted with her when she passed.  When she was certain she had memorized him, she closed her eyes and sunk back down on the wooden floor of her cage, resting her head on her arms.

Thranduil thought he saw her lips curve slightly upwards as he turned to leave, placing the torch back to its position on the wall, his hand trembling. Despite the upward tilt of the path he walked to return to the merriment, he felt as though he were sinking.

The tree line blurred around him as he made his way under the pale moonlight back to the festivities. Nothing seemed real. Even his fingers felt frozen and numb, although it was summer and the night air was comfortably warm.   

Walking through the trellis adorned with climbing ivy, he blinked. The lights were overly bright and he divested himself of his cape, feeling suddenly hot. Taking a flute of champagne from a passing tray, he drained the glass before the barmaid had a chance to move on and he discarded the empty one on her waiter, grabbing another before strolling to the other side of the gathering.

The aromas of the food made his stomach roil. The loud music and revelry caused his head to pound as if an army of soldiers were marching in step inside of his skull.  Amelina, his Amelina, now a mute skeleton of a creature. Over the past months, he had thought of her roaming freely, laughing that she had escaped him, hating him for defiling her. It was obvious she had not made it very long on her own. She had been in captivity for an extended period. 

Thranduil knew he had used her at first, that he had hurt her, but he had risked everything to save her. He had done all he knew how to do to show her that he had been wrong and that he cared for her. But she had tricked him, she had pretended that she cared for him too.

She had to have been harboring a deep hatred for him to do what she did, to leave him without even saying goodbye. She had willingly sentenced him to a life of hell, a life of not knowing what had happened to her. Well, now he knew. Now he could find the peace that had eluded him.  

Yet, was not hate he had just seen in her, nor was it desperation. It was more like resignation. She had asked him for nothing.  What was that look he had seen in her eyes? She was starved beyond hunger, more or less buried alive down there, but  she had asked him for naught, she had only stared at him, and reached for him…..What was it he had seen in her eyes?”

“Thranduil! There you are darling.” He looked over to see his lovely betrothed approaching, so perfect. She glided across the ground with poise and confidence. Any King would be proud to have this elleth at his side.

“Brandiwen” he said in acknowledgment, but it was the only utterance he could make, his soul was still in the coffin below the ground with Amelina. He tried to force himself to forget about the pathetic creature in the dungeon. Nausea rose in his stomach. “Excuse me, I have something to attend to,” he muttered in apology as he turned away.

“But Thranduil, you just got back,” Brandiwen asserted with exasperation.  He did not look back at her, did not even acknowledge that he had heard her as he slipped from sight.

After making it past the crowds, Thranduil ran, he ran to the solace of the trees. He made it into a small grove of ancient oaks and crumbled to his knees. He grasped onto the abrasive bark of a thick tree for balance and heaved, gasping for air. His chest was tight and heavy. His body ached and his lungs burned. “Amelina, Amelina…” he croaked and his strong, broad shoulder began to shake with sobs.


	33. Chapter 33

_We're our own dragons as well as our own heroes, and we have to rescue ourselves from ourselves._

_Tom Robbins_

 

 

How long he stayed there, Thranduil was not sure.  It may have been five minutes or it may have been hours. His heart still pounded in his chest but now, he could finally breathe. He gripped the gnarled bark of the oak tree and pulled himself up. Straightening to his full height, he walked back to the revelry of the celebration. He should have been offended when he saw Tauriel dancing with a dwarf, her laughter carried on the breeze, but at this moment, he did not care. At this moment all he could think about was the faerie in the dungeon.

Thranduil pulled Brandiwen into his arms and twirled her around the dance floor. She was angry at first due to his absence, but soon was swept up in the moment and a broad smile washed over her face. Her cheeks glowed while his strong arms enveloped her and he moved her in circles and patterns over the wooden planks. Her feet barely touched the ground.

This night had been a disaster thus far but it was quickly turning into a romantic whirlwind beyond her wildest dreams. She had never seen him like this, so unleashed, so into her. As the crowd started to thin and the wee hours of the morning began, Brandiwen leaned in close to him as Thranduil led her back to his tent. Her skin tingled with anticipation. She had been waiting for this night for a very, very long time. He was finally going to take her for his own.

His intensity reverberated through his skin, she could feel his current. He was sparking with electricity.  His mouth sealed over hers and he kissed her hard and long. Brandiwen let her hand slide down his midsection, cupping his engorged member, running her hand along his length. Thranduil groaned deep in his throat.

“Lina,” his voice was soft and low and Brandiwen was not sure what she had just heard. She stepped back and looked into his eyes.

“What did you say?”

He blinked at her twice before walking away and turning his back to her. “My Lord?” she asked, still breathless from the kiss.

It was not a revelation, it was an acceptance, a coming to terms with the truth inside of him.  In that second there was no doubt in his mind. It did not matter that Amelina had betrayed him. If he could have walked away with Brandiwen, he would have.  If he could have forgotten all about Amelina, he would have. A lump formed in his throat and he almost gagged thinking about her in that cage, thinking about what he had said to her before walking away and leaving her. Leaving her like that.

He had suffered. The pain of her rejection him had been a knife through his heart, but there was not one cell in his body that could continue on knowing she was hurting. His body ached, every muscle, every nerve was alive with intense pain. Nothing else mattered to him now except freeing her.

Even if Amelina did not want him, he could not abandon her. He loved her. The fae had stolen his heart. She had initially been nothing more than an acquisition, a jewel, but she had grown to mean more to him than life itself. It had been a shock to find her here when he least expected to, living still, but in torment.  He thought he had been prepared for the worst, that he had steeled himself be strong enough should he ever receive news of her death. The pain of that thought had seemed insurmountable. But this was worse.

She was here, within his reach. She was alive. It did not matter anymore that she did not love him. It did not matter that she had left him at her first opportunity. Her suffering was unbearable to him and he would do whatever it took to get her out of this place. Pulling back the curtain closure of his tent, he stepped out into the night air.

“Thranduil, Thranduil!” Brandiwens’s desperate voice called after him but he ignored her.

Ordering his night guard to accompany him, he moved with stealth to his horse. They rode out quietly, skirting the celebration grounds behind the tree line. Once they were clear from view, Thranduil ordered his mount into a full gallop.  He snatched a ripe apple from a low hanging branch as he passed to feed to her. He would be taking her straight back to Mirkwood where he could protect her.

The guard, he reasoned could go back to the party to give an excuse for the Mirkwood King’s hasty departure and later could catch up with a very small party to ride with him and the faerie back home.

As they approached the entrance to the cave where Amelina was being held, Thranduil knew he was being watched. Scanning the rocks, he spotted a great eagle perched on the rock staring down at him. An odd feeling began to seep into his skin. Thranduil bowed his head, noting several spots on the bird that were missing feathers. Old wounds, he thought as he bowed his head to the creature. The great eagles were held in high regard by the elves.

The bird seemed to nod back at the King before it let out a soft caw and flew away into the night. Thranduil’s first thought was Amelina, why was the eagle standing watch over the entrance of her prison? He rushed in, following the same path he had traversed just a few hours earlier. When he reached the arched doorway to her room, he did not bother to grab the torch. He could see immediately in the pale glow that her cage door was open. She was gone.

“Amelina! Amelina!” he shouted and his voice echoed through the empty caverns. Snatching the torch from the wall, he ducked into the room, shinning the light in the dark corners. He was alone. He examined the key lock on the cage, it hung from the iron bar like a fish hook, undamaged, one end opened. Thranduil frantically ran through the hallways calling for her, knowing in his heart, she was gone, having slipped through his fingers once again.

Had the she dwarf taken her out after showing her to him? No, Thranduil thought. She had been there at the party for the remainder of the night, leaning against a barrel in a drunken heap, her husband at her side in no better shape. Who then had taken her? Thranduil hurriedly left the cave and barked orders to his guard standing at attention with the horses to return immediately to the celebration, snuffing out the torch he was still carrying in the sand.

A lake of loneliness seeped through his veins making waves in all of the empty places he needed Amelina to fill. She was so fragile and the image of her tortured condition haunted him. She could die, and if she did, his last words to her would be the taunts he hurled at her before he deserted her in the hour she needed him most. A white hot fire of regret filled his chest. He roared and threw the extinguished torch against the rock of the mountain. It splintered and fell to the ground.  

 

 *****

 

Amelina heard shuffling and her heart began to race. Had the King returned for her? She lifted herself up again to a seated position and waited as the approaching steps came closer. In the backlit doorway, she saw a short figure. Disappointment and grief rose in her throat like bile. It was not Thranduil. From the size of the intruder, she reasoned it must be a dwarf and she shuddered, wondering if she had the strength or the will to fend him off tonight.

She backed up in her cage and moved into the crouched position of a hostile kitten. It was then she noticed the stick the dwarf was carrying. It was long for a walking stick and it had a unusual glowing orb at its tip. As the dwarf stepped into view, Amelina cocked her head. He did not look like the other dwarves.

“Hello Princess,” the voice said and the figure fidgeted, pulling off his pot shaped hat and bowing. Amelina heard the fluttering of wings and three tiny sparrows lit on the bars of her cage. She gasped reaching out to them, but remembered the bars would burn her.

“I am Radagast the Brown.” Placing his hat back on his head, he shuffled to the cage. As he moved closer to her, he let out a grief stricken groan. “Oh, you are mighty bad shape little fae, let’s get you out of there.” He spoke in quick bursts of hyperactivity. His eyes were warm and friendly and filled with concern.

He touched the pulsating light of his walking stick to the lock on her cage and began chanting. Amelina watched with astonishment as his eyes crossed. She jumped when the lock made a soft click. Radagast smiled, pleased with himself, and pulled the door to Amelina’s cage open.

“Careful now, the iron burns, it will burn you,” he said reaching out for her. Amelina took his hand and moved to the edge of the cage. She was not certain she should trust him, but not to trust him was a worse alternative. There was nothing for her here but death.  

“What are you?” she whispered as she placed her bony hand in his.

“I am a Maia, a Wizard if you will. Come now, this is not a nice place, we must go quickly.” Amelina shimmied through the door of her cage, tilting her body to try to avoid contact with the iron. She closed her eyes and jumped.  Her feet hit the ground with a soft thunk and she crumpled, her legs refusing to hold her.  The wizard caught her and kept her from hitting the floor. His arms were amazingly strong and Amelina felt almost as if he was making her float as he led her through the dimly lit hallways and into the night.

Tears sprung in her eyes as she took in her first breath of fresh air in well over a year. She stared up into the starlit sky, but it quickly became a blur as she sobbed. Before she knew what was happening, the wizard had seated her on a sled made of sticks. At the helm was a team of large rabbits.

Amelina looked behind her as Radagast took the reins and commanded the rabbits to run. He eyes quickly caught the black, beady eyes of a great eagle sitting on the rocks of the cave. She recognized the winged creature immediately. He was the eagle that had been held in the cage before her. “Thank you,” she murmured waving as the sled lurched and barreled forward. She could swear the bird winked at her.


	34. Chapter 34

_You usually have to wait for that which is worth waiting for._

_Craig Bruce_

 

The celebrations had wound down by the time Thranduil returned. He scrutinized those drunken few still milling about, searching for a clue as to who was responsible for Amelina’s disappearance. He had great reason to worry; her condition was so poor that if she did not receive the proper care, she would not survive long. He bent his head, closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with the forefinger and thumb of one long, ringed hand.

“Sometimes, Thranduil, a storm is just a storm…” Thranduil turned to see the pointed grey hat and long robes of Mithrandir lingering behind him. Gandalf stood, nonchalantly stoking his pipe, the soft, scraping click running like a tine along Thranduil frayed nerves.

“Tell me she is safe or I swear by the Valar I will rip every tent open this night and hold all in contempt until my army arrives to unearth every inch this heathen land until I find her!”

Gandalf regarded him quizzically for a moment, cocking his head slightly to one side. “Funny thing, a little birdie, well, a rather large bird of prey actually, whispered in my ear that you were in the company of the Princess earlier.  It does not appear that you are truly concerned with her welfare.”

“Do not presume to tell me where my concern lies!”

“I need not tell you anything Thranduil, your action, or lack thereof speaks for itself.”

Thranduil bowed his head and a pained grimace crossed his countenance. His voice was softer and had an inflection Gandalf had not heard for many centuries, but one he remembered from the time the Mirkwood King was still yet a prince and had not learned to keep his sorrow in check.

“I returned for her, despite her betrayal. I returned to rescue her! I would have taken her from that foul place and levelled the mountain that held her to ashes. Death awaits those who have harmed her!”

Gandalf studied the Mirkwood King for a long moment, taking a puff from his cigar.

“There is more here than meets the eye Thranduil.  Do not call attention to her presence in these parts lest those with less than honorable intentions try to find her. You can still help her by not seeking your revenge now.”

Gandalf watched as the King’s broad shoulders sagged in defeat. His grief hung in the air between them like a dense fog. As perplexing as Thranduil’s actions had been, Gandalf understood then that the King did have genuine feelings for the faerie.

“The board is set, the pieces are moving, there is yet a role for the King to play. Meanwhile, take care of your house Thranduil.”

Thranduil did not miss the reference to his current circumstances. He had much to take care of, how Gandalf was aware of these things, he did not know. Now that he had managed to move Legolas to look with keen eyes upon another elleth, Tauriel was consorting with a dwarf. And he had been neglectful to Brandiwen, pushing her aside because of Amelina. Brandiwen wanted him, Amelina did not and he knew he had to keep reminding himself of that truth.

Thranduil’s eyes narrowed and he looked at the wizard. He did not fully trust him, but he sensed the wisdom in the old sage’s words. It would be a mistake to wage war upon this celebration, to call attention to the fact that a fae of unconfirmed, albeit extraordinary parentage had been here recently. No good could come of it and Thranduil was reasonably certain that Amelina was in the hands of someone who would take of her. He could be patient, for now. He nodded, parting ways with the old wizard.

When he returned to his tent, weary and torn, Thranduil was taken aback. It was not Brandiwen waiting there for him, it was Cassiopeia. She stood naked, her hair long and loose, bright erect nipples peaking between the dark strands. Her body was completely unadorned save for the gilded goblet she held in her clutch. Thranduil rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“No?” She said sauntering toward him. “I require nothing of you my Lord, no promises, no gifts, no salvation. I am simply here for your pleasure. You look like you need to say yes.”

Cassie was no stranger to the demands Thranduil faced. She knew how to be unobtrusive. She knew what he wanted and how to please him. Even during the worst of times when he was distracted and cranky, she could milk him dry and release the demons furled inside him. Despite his cold demeanor, he was an incredibly intense and passionate lover. She had thought they could stay the way they had been for so long forever, before the fae had threatened the hold she had on him.

And now there was Brandiwen to contend with, an unexpected annoyance. Not that Brandiwen held any claim to Thranduil. It was obvious she was a temporary endeavor of ill reason. Cassie doubted that Brandiwen was even capable of making the King hard. She was such a cold fish Cassie could not even view her as competition. Brandiwen did not love him, she loved the thought of him, and the thought of being queen. Cassie held no such disillusionment. She knew she would never be queen and that was fine.

Thranduil lavished her in gifts and he always came back to her. He was an elf, he did not need to mate again. He had been pledged to Legolas’ Mother. It was highly unlikely he would ever commit himself to another like that again. That was okay with Cassiopeia. Brandiwen, she could handle. Amelina, she could not.

She had gotten rid of the faerie, although it had required great effort. Making Brandiwen leave had been easy. A few choice words and the elleth had stormed out on her own accord, red faced and furious. Cassie doubted she would ever have to deal with Brandiwen again.

She poured the King a large goblet of wine and handed it to him. Kneeling in front of him, she opened his buckle, pulling the zipper down on his trousers. She stroked his flaccid manhood while he sipped his wine and when he did not respond, she took him in her moth sucking and stroking him with her tongue. She worked up a mouthful of saliva and slurped and pulled, looking up into his faraway eyes. He remained limp.

Finally, he looked down at her. “Are you finished?” he asked with distracted boredom. Cassie rose from her knees, her cheeks turning red with rage.

“You are a fool Thranduil! She never cared for you like I do.”

Thranduil set his goblet on the table and pulled his pants up, fastening his buckle.

“Leave me.” He ordered without even looking at her.

Cassie fumed, gathering up her dress.

“She could not wait get away from you!”

Thranduil remained silent as she collected her belongings and stormed from the tent. Cassiopeia’s word cut deeply, although he gave her no indication he had heard them.

“Cassie.” She stopped and turned back, hoping for an apology and an invitation into his bed.

He walked over to her and brushed her tear stained cheek with his thumb. “This is over now. I will provide you with anything you need, but we are through.”

Her bottom lip trembled. “I need you!” she spat.

“I am sorry Cassie, but you knew this would end.”

“No! She is a siren! She cast a spell on you! She will never be what you need! She hates you!”

Thranduil turned and sighed, unwilling to engage. “Leave me now Cassiopeia or I will have you removed.” Cassiopeia tripped and Thranduil caught her and straightened her. 

“I love you,” she pleaded, grabbing his arms. There was no missing the look in his frigid blue eyes; it was a look of pity, mixed with an edge of disgust.

“Begging does not become you Cassiopeia, I am certain you can find another to warm your bed.”  With that he turned away from her. Hot tears streamed down her face as she stumbled out into the darkness.

 

*****

Legolas watched as his Father’s consort fumbled through the curtain of the King’s large, well lit tent. She ran into the darkness where he saw her crumble to the ground, clutching her stomach, racked in sobs. Sighing he went to her. He had been keeping watch, making  sure Tauriel did not receive a visit from the dwarf she had been entertaining this evening after she had retired to her quarters.

“Are you alright?” he said placing his hand on Cassiopeia’s shoulder.

“No,” she sobbed. Legolas offered her his hand and lifted her to her feet. Placing his arm around her waist, he led her to her lodgings and assisted her inside, holding the curtain for her. He was surprised when she pulled him in with her and wrapped her arms around his neck. He froze, his arms rigid at his sides.

“Oh Legolas, what will become of me,” she hiccupped. Reluctantly he put his arms around her.

“It will not seem so bad in the morning.”

Cassiopeia turned her head up to him, her lips slightly parted. The look in her eyes made Legolas very uncomfortable. He was mortified when she dragged him in, pressing her open, moist lips against his.


	35. Chapter 35

_Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens._

_J. R. R. Tolkien_

 

 

Amelina slept and then she slept some more. The bed beneath her was soft as a cloud and warm, in stark contrast to the hard cold floor of the cage she had been held in for over a year.  If she shivered, even slightly, a furred creature or two would curl up next to her or drape themselves over her feet, lending her their warmth.  She slept through the long nights and through the mornings; she napped in the heat of midday and again in the evenings. The old wizard gave her honey and sweet juices. When she was strong enough to sit up, he fed her porridge and leaves.

She was plagued by nightmares, but no matter how loud she screamed, she always awoke to a moist nose and whiskers to comfort her. The animals seemed to sense that the danger was inside of her and not a threat to them.  The wizard was kind and careful. He never touched her, although he worked on her often, holding his hands over her body, a strange blue smoke encompassing her while he chanted.     

Radagast’s speech was slightly hyperactive, yet it had a calming effect on Amelina. She had yet to find her voice, having not spoken to anyone for so long. The wizard demanding nothing of her and did not require her to speak, he simply offered her words of encouragement. He spent most of his time outside or in his cluttered kitchen among the jars of herbs and mysterious liquids, concocting potions and treating small forest creatures for minor ailments.            

After the first two weeks, Amelina was able to walk around some, even venturing outside to take in a little sunshine. The slightest excursion left her exhausted, but there was no denying she was beginning to mend, or rather her body was beginning to mend.

The rest of her, Radagast was unsure of. The night terrors were violent and she was jittery, her eyes constantly roving over her surroundings with vigilance, as if some unknown force were chasing after her. And then there was the sadness, it was thick and it shrouded her like a dark cloak. She carried a weariness of age and heartbreak that did not suit her young body.

He tisked and fussed over her, making sure she wanted for nothing, but at times the longing in her eyes was like a vast crater, a bottomless pit. It was if she knew the distance she must cross was insurmountable. She seemed to be walking with one foot in this world and one in the next.  Whatever it was she was pining for, he did not know, but he knew it was going to take a very long time for that chasm to heal, and that truthfully he was not sure it would.     

He was pleased that she took nourishment and that she was meandering into the sunlight and interacting with the animals. These were all good signs that she had not given up. Perhaps, like him, she would seek a different kind of existence and find some measure of happiness in the wild, away from the so called civilized inhabitants of Arda.

There were very few of her kind left, it might do her well to immerse herself into the world of the animals.  As a faerie, she was naturally more in tuned with them than most, himself included. And they gravitated to her, to his astonishment.  Even the most timid creatures of the forest were at ease by her side and they all seemed to take a protective stance with her.

By the end of the fourth week in his care, she was less skeletal and more just painfully thin. The sunlight had had changed her skin tone from a translucent white to a delicate paleness.  The dark circles were still present beneath her eyes, swollen with the tears that she seemed to shed almost constantly. Radagast viewed this as a good thing, tears were cleansing and perhaps she would cry out the demons that tormented her, in time.

 

*****

 

Leglolas let out and involuntary moan. His need was strong. He had been entertaining thoughts of a red haired elleth and a raven haired elleth for a long time without any release for all of his yearning. Yet to take the King’s consort was unthinkable, even though it appeared his father had finished with her.

He pulled Cassiopeia from him and firmly grasped her wrists, securing them at her sides.  “You know I cannot do this.” Cassie pouted and reached out for him again, sensing his weakness.

“Sleep well,” he said pushing her away and turning to make a hasty retreat from her quarters. Legolas returned to his own tent and lay down on his cot staring at the taupe fabric of the canopy.  His hardened member stained painfully against his trousers and his bullocks ached with unrequited desire.

He closed his eyes and tried to sleep but his arousal was too great, it festered in his mind. Unfastening the buckle of his belt he pulled his trousers down to his knees, his manhood springing forth in front of him.

He ringed his strong hand around his aching cock and began to stroke. Immediately, a bead of milky white fluid seeped from his tip and he used it to increase the slickness and friction of his strokes. He groaned loudly. This was not going to take long.

**

Tauriel had noticed the King’s discomfort and disappearances throughout the evening. Unable to sleep, she made her way to Legolas’ tent. She wanted to speak with him about Thranduil’s odd behavior. The guard recognized her and nodded, indicating that the Prince was in his tent.

She walked in quietly, brushing the curtain aside, letting it fall back into place behind her. She stopped short, startled at the sight before her. His eyes were closed tightly. His large cock stood swollen and erect in the grip of his tight fist. Tauriel blushed and thought to leave, but she found she could not tear her eyes away from him. His was beautiful, his mouth open slightly, his forehead creased and his body rigid.

She watched as he tensed further and his hips flexed upward, leaving the cot. A warm liquid heat came from between her legs when his low growl of ecstasy reached her ears. She knew of mating, she had seen the coupling of the royal horses at the stables.  She did not know, however, that one could do this alone. New sensations rose within her and her skin began to tingle while she gawked.

A shout came from his parted lips and fluid spurted upward from his staff, his normally pale cheeks flushed red in his own heat. As quietly as she had entered, Tauriel slipped from the tent as Legolas relaxed and his arms fell limply to his sides.

Tauriel blushed and she nodded to the guard, merging quickly with the darkness in a hasty retreat.  A wide, uncontrollable grin formed on her face and an odd excitement danced within her.

**

The hours turned to days and the days turned into weeks. Thranduil had brought his entourage back to Mirkwood not knowing what had become of Amelina, not knowing if he would ever see her again. He was irritable and everyone kept their distance from him, even Brandiwen. She moved around the palace like a whisper, taking care of her duties, giving the King a wide breadth.

It was a deep need that he felt, a thirst he could not quench. It was not for the lack of trying. Thranduil immersed himself in his duties, paying close attention to most minute details of the running of his kingdom.  Even Legolas appeared bemused when Thranduil insisted on leading routine patrols and took part in the destruction of several nests of arachnids that were infringing upon the lands of Mirkwood. The King killed the spiders with a viciousness that concerned the Prince.

Six weeks had passed when Gandalf came galloping to Mirkwood, demanding the gates be opened for him with haste and insisting on an immediate audience with King. Thranduil was not to be found and it took some scrambling of the guards before he was located at the outskirts of town, overseeing the reconstruction of a farm destroyed by an Orc invasion.

Thranduil rushed to the palace upon receiving word that the grey wizard had arrived in a flurry demanding to speak with him. He mentally cautioned himself. Gandalf could be here for any number of reasons. Wizards were lent to dramatics and his presence in Mirkwood this day likely had nothing to do with the faerie. Yet the King's heart pounded in his chest and a flame rose in his stomach as he raced to his halls to learn the reason behind Gandalf’s visit.

Gandalf nodded, balancing on his tall walking stick as Thranduil entered, his long robes billowing behind him. The King’s icy blue stare met the wizard’s soft grey one in a stalemate. Gandalf did not hesitate long. His voice filled the cavern with urgency.

“The faerie is in grave danger, we may already be too late. She needs your protection.” Gandalf’s words sounded like a request, to Thranduil’s surprise.  He had thought the wizard understood, he was willing to move mountains for Amelina.

“Where is she?” Thranduil demanded, anger flaring at the thought that more harm night come to her.

“She is traveling from Rhosgobel as we speak. She has been hidden safely there, but a dark force has fallen upon her and the brown wizard, they were attacked. Radagast is bringing her here now, but they will not make it without your assistance. “

As much as Thranduil wanted to take the Gandalf to task for leaving her unsecured on the borders of Mirkwood with the feebleminded, mushroom brained, brown recluse that fancied himself a wizard, he did not.  He barked orders for a large company to be assembled forthwith, they were to ride. Now.

Thranduil was ordering up his amour and his horse without so much as a nod of acknowledgment for the grey wizard who watched the commotion with a satisfied look on his face. As Thranduil left to retrieve his weapons, Gandalf himself barked a few orders at the guards.

A large party of elves was galloping off to the West, the wizard at their side, in less than a half hour, with Legolas and Tauriel bringing up a second company from behind.


	36. Chapter 36

_“Miracles were just second chances if you really thought about it--second chances when all hope was lost.”_

_― Kaya McLaren_

 

 

Amelina was encompassed in a sea of green. She had wandered deeper into the surrounding woods then she had in the past. A sinking feeling crept over her as she noticed the plants becoming darker and darker. She felt the nervous presence of a small, four footed creature, the only one who had ventured this far out with her, probably a hedgehog.

She reached out her hand and ran a finger over a leaf that was dark, too dark, almost black.  She could barely sense a life force in it, yet it still grew, as if it were diseased. She fingered its rough surface, perplexed by the plight of the forest here. The leaf grew brighter beneath her touch. She wanted to touch everything around her, but her energy was already waning and she had some distance to travel if she were to make it back before dark.

She had a new friend, a lone elf who had come from Rivendell a few days ago. He had long dark hair, deep brown eyes, and a lightness of spirit that cheered her. He had arrived in Rhosgobel with sparse gear and a bag containing a rich green fruit that had lit up Amelina’s taste buds and stimulated her appetite for the first time since she had been rescued.  She was sad that there were only four of the thick peeled, creamy treats left, but Elladan had promised her that he would take her to Rivendell where the trees were heavy with an endless supply of the delectable treat.

Elladan had ridden in on a tan horse. Radagast was none too pleased at the intrusion, but the elf’s easy manner had soon put the brown wizard at ease. Elladan had been sent at the bidding of Lord Elrond to check on the welfare of the Princess. How Elrond had found out the location of the fae was unknown, but Radagast suspected it had something to do with twittering among the avian creatures of the realm.

Amelina had spent the better part of her last three days with Elladan , but today she had wandered off while he was tending to his horse and now she was wishing she had not. A cold chill in the air slid past her and she suddenly became alert that something was amiss. She turned, heading back to the cabin at a quick clip, encumbered by the feeling she was being chased.

A sharp clicking sound rose in the spaces between the trees and while she was able to outrun it at first, her legs soon felt laden as if they contained weights and the best she could do was walk fast. The noise began to surround her now, coming at her from all directions.

Her breaths came short and shallow and she knew she must slow down if she were to allow her lungs to continue to take in air, yet if she slowed, whatever was in the forest would easily overtake her. With no other options she ran as best as she could, the trees blurring around her until she thought she would pass out. Without warning, she hit a brick wall.

She panicked, flailing wildly, but a familiar voice penetrated through the thick haze and strong hands caught her wrists. “Stand behind me Amelina, it is just spiders.” 

Elladan‘s tenor tones cut through her fear and eased her mind, but she was still intensely aware of the danger around them. She stood shaking, weak from her exertion while Elladan expertly released arrow after arrow from his bow, each one hitting its target with skilled precision.  He moved around her in a circle, slaying the spiders one by one in the order they closed in on her.

Amelina stood in awe. He moved like a force of nature, not missing a single movement of the crawling creatures around them. Nary a single one of the eight legged beasts even made it close to her.  It was as if Elladan had eyes in the back of his head, his skill was unsurpassed.

The clicking sounds reverberated around them in the distance, but the immediate threat had been extinguished. “Amelina, are you hurt?’” His concern reached through the mental fog and she shook her head, still unable to give voice to her thoughts.

He was touching her, and to her surprise, she did not recoil. She wanted to move closer to him, into his warmth, into a safe place. Safe, Elladan was safe. Amelina marveled at the revelation. She could not remember the last time she had felt she was safe in the presence of another.

“Whoa honey, I’ve got you. No need to take off…” Amelina realized she was beginning to levitate. It was an odd feeling after the strong weight of gravity that had kept her from running fast when she had been alone.  

“We must go,” his tone was soft and kind, but held an air of urgency and she reached out to take the hand he offered her without a second thought.  He grasped her and pulled her onto his back. Amelina gasped. Elladan moved as fast as the wind, carrying her as if she were nothing heavier than a coat. She felt his strong muscles flexing beneath her. He was lean and hard and his raw power caused something within her to stir, something she had felt before.

Elladan did not hesitate once they made it to Radagast’s tree lair. He hoisted Amelina inside, slamming the door behind them.

Radagast had a perplexed look on his face. He had eschewed involvement in the affairs of elves and humans and their tumultuous affairs. It had been a stretch for him to care for Amelina, but he seemed to regard her as a member of the animal kingdom. Her unwillingness to speak seemed to solidify the idea in his mind that she was one of his kind.

Elladan…., well, Radagast continued to view him as somewhat of a nuisance. He appeared none too pleased when the pair came bounding through his door, the elf slamming the wooden frame so hard the ground shook.

“Darkness is upon us,” Elladan warned the old, distracted wizard. Amelina hung her head in shame. Radagast had been so kind to her, but darkness followed her, it always had. She had never quite understood this before, but she was beginning to come to terms with the knowledge that her mere presence brought danger to those she cared about.

Radagast ran to the window, peering out in disbelief. A creeping, malevolent darkness was spreading upon them like a weed. Tendrils of black roots slithered over the walls of his enchanted home and up the long trunk of the furry oak he called home.   

“Hide” he uttered excitedly. Elladan, pushed Amelina from him, toward the center of the U shaped abode. He would not hide, he was the son of Elrond, a fighter until the end. He marveled, however, when the wizard he had deemed ineffective began to meditate and conjure a powerful spell. Elladan stood frozen as dark spindles slithered over the windows, their menacing fingers unable to penetrate the panes and come inside.

Despite the ineptitude Elladan had believed of the brown wizard, he was duly impressed when a reverberating whoosh swept over the cabin and the darkness dissipated as quickly as it had befallen them.

“They will be back, I cannot protect her here,” Radagast blurted, his eyes wide.

“I will take her to my Father,” Elladan said with certainty.

“No!” Radagast shouted. “It is too far, there is no time.” We must request the aide of Thranduil, he is the only one who can help her now!”

Elladan frowned. He did not trust the King of the Woodland realm.

“I will take her to Lorien then,” Elladan insisted.

“No! Thranduil is the only warrior capable of protecting her against the Dark Lord. It is He who is seeking her.”

Elladan remained quiet, considering the old sage’s words. Thranduil was closer, he had a seasoned army and he was legendary in his fighting skills. Taking a deep breath, he acquiesced to Radagast’s judgement. “How will we call for him?”

“Leave that to me,” Radagast responded.

 

*****

 

A dark cloud rose above the trees in the distance and Thranduil dug his heels deeply into his stallion, leaving a widening gap between him and his soldiers who were trying desperately to keep up with their King.

Thranduil was furious. What idiot had allowed her to be rescued from that dungeon only to leave her alone in the hands of an addled brained wizard? He cursed himself again and again for not taking her from the cage the instant he saw her. It had only taken a few hours for him to come to his senses, she had been there for so long. Why did she not wait for him just a bit longer? She must have known he would not leave her there.

But no. Of course she had not known that. He had been so cruel in the depths of his hurt and shock, stumbling upon her there without warning after searching for her for so long. But now she would know. He would reach her in time to rescue her from the darkness that was chasing her, he thought, as he flew eagerly to the battle that was brewing on the horizon.


	37. Chapter 37

_"It bit me! ; What did you expect faeries to do? ; I thought they did nice things like granting wishes. ; Shows what you know don't it."_

_Labyrinth--_

 

“Amelina, we ride now, gather you things!”  Elladan insisted, pushing her into the tiny space she called her own in Radagast’s cabin. “Take only that which is absolutely necessary,” he barked. The anxiousness in his voice was not lost on the faerie. She scoffed, this was not  difficult. She slipped on her nicest dress that Radagast had provided for her. It hung loosely on her skeletal frame. She had nothing else to take with her and the thought saddened her.   

Amelina did not know where they were going, but she knew she must leave this haven in order to safeguard Radagast and the critters of his realm. She would rather die than bring harm to them, so she obeyed the orders despite the sadness that swept over her like a feverish chill. Tears sprang up in her eyes but she fought them back, determined not to let Radagast see how much she wanted to stay with him in this enchanted place she had come to think of as her true home.  

Elladan lifted her against him on his tan horse. Radagast grasped her hand in both of his and held it for a long moment. “Ride like the wind,” he said and Amelina nodded, choking back her tears. “The wind Amelina. The wind…. “ he said as Elladan nudged his horse forward. Amelina stared back at the brown wizard who grew smaller and smaller in the distance as they rode away, not understanding his words.  The lone pair, elf and faerie, rode with the breeze picking up at their backs and the darkness closing in on them.

“Hold on Amelina” Elladan shouted. A shadow was overtaking them and the elf pushed their mount to exertion in an effort to outrun the forces that were almost upon them now.  An eclipse slowly began blocking out the sun and the weather shifted. A rush of cool air encompassed them and Amelina caught the sight of an orc atop a warg in her peripheral vision.

Elladan shot off an arrow without even breaking his horse’s stride and the grey snaggletoothed orc toppled from his mangy beast, rolling in the dirt as the animal skidded to a halt. It was a short victory, however, they were soon surrounded by a pack of the foul smelling creatures and Elladan’s horse was forced to slow.

The elf dismounted, fighting single handedly, but a sallow-skinned, bow-legged orc was soon upon him. Amelina slipped from the horse, lunging to help, but she was grabbed and held from behind She watched an arrow fly past her and pierce the orc between the eyes. She reached her arms over her head clutching the hands that held her in their grasp.

And then he was there, standing in front of her like a wall. With a broad stroke of his muscular right arm, he pushed her completely behind him, positioning her between him and the horse. “Stay back Amelina.” Thranduil’s voice was sharp and his tone stiff. He moved around her in a protective arc, wielding a sword in each hand. His movements were sleek and powerful. He cut through sinew and bone effortlessly, eliminating the immediate threat. She stared at his back and the sheet of long silver hair that fell to his waist.

For a brief moment, Amelina was mesmerized by his powerful, protective stance, her eyes fixated on his well-choreographed maneuvers. But the sky was turning black and she felt a familiar dread. The eye…. _He_ was near and if _He_ found her, _He_ would destroy everyone she cared about as _He_ had done before. Not even Thranduil could protect her from the eye, from _Him_.

She closed her own eyes tightly and rolled into a ball, willing herself to disappear. She shut off her mind and tried hide from _Him_ in a dark corner of oblivion. It was of no use, she could feel _His_ presence inching closer to her now.  A gust of cold wind whisked past and then a fierce blowing storm overtook them.

Thunder boomed, echoing across the forest and a band of lightening cracked a deep chasm in the sky. The heavens opened with a sick fracturing noise, revealing a fiery amber eye. She knew then with certainty that it was too late, _He_ had found her.

She watched an elf to her left fall under the heavy hammer of a sneering Orc and the terrible sight brought her out from her shell. She could not hide any longer. They would all perish. All of those trying to protect her were about to die, including Thranduil. The heavy gales were already throwing the King off balance and she watched in horror as he struggled to keep his footing while covering her, trying desperately to prevent her from being exposed to the evil that had closed in on her.

She knew Thranduil would not allow her to go around him, to put herself in danger.  The combination of fear for his life and anger at the force that had been stalking her for so long awakened a strange churning sensation inside her.

Amelina stood and found herself ascending upward by sheer force of will, over the back of the King and his forces, her skirts billowing around her legs as she rose. A lone elf stopped to gawk and point at her and then everyone turned to look. Thranduil’s eyes widened as they met hers, the glassy pools registering astonishment at first, before a genuine fear washed over them.

“Amelina! No!,” he yelled, but his voice seemed far away. Amelina could only hear the roaring of the wind clearly now, as if she had become one with it. She reached, pulling energy from a lighting strike breaking across the sky and her entire being took on a deep violet glow. She held out both hands, creating an invisible buffer that halted the wind from reaching those on the ground beneath her.

A strange but familiar language formed on her tongue and she herself was startled at the force of her own voice when the words came from her. She issued a command in an ancient language that corralled the wind and hurled it like an arrow in the direction of the Dark Lord.

Her voice boomed, amplified by the electricity coursing through her veins.  A funnel cloud formed around the eye and miraculously, it began to shrink, diminishing in size until it was sucked up in a vortex and it collapsed in on itself with a sharp shriek.

The howling of the wind ceased with a whoosh and as quickly as the storm had kicked up, it dissipated.  The sun peeked cautiously from behind the clouds. Amelina descended to the ground quickly, landing on her feet, but then dropped with a soft thud into the dirt.

“Lina?”  Thranduil was at her side instantaneously, still caught in disbelief over what he had just witnessed, his voice wrought with worry. Amelina was bone-weary and spent. She looked into his icy blue eyes and reached for him, as she had done that night he visited her in the cage, not certain he was real. The world around her began to spin and for a brief second in time, she saw three of him. She said his name but she had no air to give voice to the word, it was only heard inside her head and then the world faded around her and she slipped into a peaceful blackness.

Thranduil scooped her up into his arms, she was light as a feather and limp. He could feel the slight rise and fall of her chest and he breathed a sigh of gratitude. She was alive. He lifted her with ease onto his horse, bellowing orders for his company to return to Mirkwood. The Dark Lord had been thwarted, but the eye would return and Thranduil knew more orc forces would be upon them if they lingered.

Legolas and his company arrived just as they began to move forward and the King ordered the Prince to take the back of the line to ward off any threats that may be pursuing his beleaguered soldiers. He eyed Tauriel curiously as they moved to the back of the line.

Thranduil wrapped Amelina in his cloak and kept her against his chest. Her sweet essence was slightly fermented and he knew she was still very debilitated although she appeared to be in better shape than when he had last seen her in the cage.  

He mentally cautioned himself as pride gathered up in his chest, remembering how courageously she had faced the Necromancer. She was not his.  She had chosen not to be with him and she had left him. He would have to guard his heart. She was a faerie, she was cunning and she had proven to him that he could not trust her. But for this moment, all he could feel was relief, relief that he had found her and that she was still alive.

He pressed his lips against her forehead and kissed her softly. “I have waited so long for this day,” he whispered. She did not awaken, but a soft sigh hung on her shallow breath and Thranduil felt her curl closer into his chest.


	38. Chapter 38

_“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure."_

_\- Marianne Williamson_

 

 

“She is waking up, once she is fully conscious, move her to the stables.” Brandiwen’s voice held an air of authority and an element of disgust.

“But the King has ordered that she be taken care of in his absence,” Lilliana protested.

“And she will be taken care of, in the stables with the other creatures. She is a faerie, she does not belong in the palace!”  Brandiwen paused and sighed, noting the look of anguish on Liliana’s face.  “I am certain Thranduil will be pleased that you have tended so diligently to her. He only brought her here because he was exhausted and she was injured. She can recover in the barn now that she is awake. Certainly he did not intend to keep her in the palace.” Brandiwen’s tone was not unkind, but dismissive.

Liliana did not want to take Amelina to the stables, but with Thranduil and Legolas out dealing with an orc pack threatening the southern border of Mirkwood, she did not know what other choice she had. She was a guest in the palace, there only at the pleasure of the King. She did not wish to upset the Thranduil’s fiancé and she knew she did not have the authority to challenge Brandiwen’s decisions.

At one time she had thought she was there because the Prince had willed it, but Legolas had grown cold and distant and Liliana felt her position at the palace was precarious. More and more she was thinking about returning home. She had visited her farm several times and as the King had promised, her crops were being tended to and the destruction that had been laid out by the orcs had already been repaired.

Liliana was uncomfortable in the King’s halls now and was feeling about as unwelcome as the faerie. Donovan was constantly wandering off. He was a farm elfling, used to exploring the wide open fields. The caves of the palace were beginning to feel more and more confining. Moving her Mother again would be an ordeal after she had finally adjusted to being in the palace.  Another big change would be hard on her, otherwise, Liliana would probably have already returned with her small family to her farm.

“You’re awake,” Liliana said to the faerie in a soothing voice. Her purple eyes looked around in confusion and fear. Liliana felt ashamed that she would have to move her to the stables in her fragile condition.   She handed Amelina a cup of juice and the faerie eyed her warily. “I am Liliana. King Thranduil has assigned me to care for you. You have been asleep for two days.” Amelina hesitantly took the juice and sniffed it before taking a sip.

“How do you feel?” Liliana asked. The faerie did not answer, her eyes just scanned the room as if she were searching for something….or someone. “He was here, but there was an orc attack and he was called to the battlefront.” Liliana offered.

She wanted to tell the faerie that Thranduil had sat by her bedside day and night, refusing to leave her and that he had his best healers brought to the palace for her, but she did not. Thranduil was betrothed to Brandiwen and she did not want to give the fae false hope.

Hope was a dangerous thing and the descendants of Oropher seemed to be very good at leaving the impression that they cared for someone when in fact, they cared not at all. Liliana was all too well aware of that fact now. She felt sorry for Amelina and did not want to encourage any attraction the faerie had to the elusive ElvenKing who had been entertaining the regal Bradiwen in the palace far too long for anyone to mistake his intentions.  

“Now that you are awake, we have to move.” Liliana looked down, embarrassed at having to utter those words. She stood and began gathering some things to take with them. The stables would be cold and she threw some blankets and pillows into a bag. She pulled back the covers and helped Amelina stand, wondering if the fae would have enough strength to make the trip.

Seeing how weak she was, she sat Amelina back down on the bed. “You know what? I think we need to get you something to eat first.” Her voice held a firm resolve. Liliana left the room and hailed a servant in the hallway. She ordered some biscuits and honey and requested that the mare the King had given her be brought to the palace. She would take Amelina to the stables, but the faerie would go with a full stomach and would ride on her horse. It was the least she could do, for now.

The food came quickly and Liliana was surprised when she stepped into the hallway to take the tray to find Brandiwen standing there looking at her with disapproval. “She is too weak to walk My Lady. I have requested my horse to be brought to take her to the stables. Surely, you do not object to her having something to eat before she goes?”

Brandiwen’s demeanor softened just a bit. “Well, I suppose it will be alright, but see to it that her plate and utensils are boiled and her bed linens are burned. She is to leave as soon as the horse arrives,” Brandiwen said in a benevolent tone, her pride in what she clearly considered a compassionate gesture obvious. Liliana rolled her eyes as Brandiwen turned her back. Sighing, she turned back to Amelina and set the tray on her bed. “Go ahead and eat, I will go and await our horse.”

The elleth seemed nice, Amelina thought as Liliana left the room. Nice but annoyed. She picked up a biscuit, drizzled it with honey and began nibbling. The rich honeyed pastry was so good that a soft moan formed at the back of her throat. She wanted more, but after polishing off the first one, she was certain her stomach would burst if she put anything else into her mouth.

Standing gingerly on wobbly legs, Amelina began to wander around the room. She walked to a corner table that held a huge, brightly colored floral arrangement and fingered the yellow petals on a sunflower.

“Don’t touch that!”  A loud, shrill voice of startling proportions cut through the silence.

Amelina jumped back, sending the vase crashing to the floor. Brandiwen marched over and grabbed her by the arm, her face red with anger. Amelina flailed and managed to get her teeth on the elleth’s wrist. She bit down hard and Brandiwen shrieked, jerking her arm away.

“Out, get her out!” Brandiwen screamed, just as Liliana was walking through the doorway.

“What happened My Lady?”

“She bit me! Thranduil is going to have to keep his animals out of the halls! I will not have her here!” Brandiwen fumed as Liliana quickly gathered the bag she had prepared, motioning for the faerie to follow while avoiding Brandiwen’s harsh glare.

“Amelina, come with me,” she encouraged, standing between the faerie and Brandiwen. She frowned when she realized the fae was still in her night shift. She would have to go back to retrieve some clothing for her after she got her settled in the stables. She could not risk letting the fae change now, not with Brandiwen causing such a scene.

Liliana rushed Amelina to the waiting horse and laced her fingers together for the fae to step on. She weighed little more than Donovan and Amelina hoisted her onto the mare’s back with ease, grabbing the reins. The faerie’s long bare legs hung loosely at the sides of the hose and Amelina cursed Brandiwen for making them leave in such haste. She took a back road to the stables so as not to make a spectacle of the sparsely clad fae.

Liliana chattered all the way to the barns, trying to make Amelina feel at ease, but the faerie said nothing, she just constantly scanned their surroundings as if she expected a monster to jump out at them at any minute.

She set Amelina up her mare’s stall, creating a makeshift bed with the linens she had brought in the back corner. Her horse was gentle and Liliana figured it would be the safest place for the faerie to stay, but she intended to take this matter up with Legolas as soon as he and the King returned. If she had to, she would take the faerie, and her family, back to her farm. She would be damned if she let Amelina live in the barn.

“I will return to palace and retrieve some clothes for you Amelina. I promise you will not be here for long. I have a home not far from here and we can go there as soon as the Prince returns.” The faerie did not respond, she just stared and blinked her large amethyst eyes.

Amelina leapt onto her horse and kicked her into a run. She wanted to get back to Amelina’s room and get her some clothing before Brandiwen burned it all and she did not want to leave the faerie half naked and alone in the barn.

*****

Thranduil returned, leading his horse to the stables ahead of his group. He had pushed his fatigued horse hard, anxious to get back to Amelina. The rest of the company was not far behind. The King’s stallion bayed and whinnied as they passed the closed stall where Liliana’s horse was kept. The mare was not there and Thranduil assumed she had been let out to the pasture, curious that his own horse seemed so displeased at the mare’s absence. Perhaps she was in heat, Thranduil thought as he led his powerful black steed to the royal stall.

The company was arriving as the King looked around for the stable hand.  He glanced out of the wide open doors to see the servant rolling a large wheel of hay to the pastured horses. A soldier quickly stepped up to tend to the King’s horse after tying his own to wait.

“What have we here?” Thranduil heard a soldier jeer, followed by the creak of a stable door being opened.  The King turned to see one of his strongest warriors flying backwards, hitting the back wall of the barn with a hard thud. The elf’s face turned plum with rage and he jumped to his feet, charging back to the stall. Legolas stopped the elf in his tracks with a sword to the neck and looked up to his Father.

Thranduil walked guardedly over to where his son stood with the offending elf and looked into the stall where Legolas’ gaze was fixed.  “Leave us,” Thranduil ordered coldly. Everyone scurried out of the barn without a backward glance.  

She was crouched in the corner of the stall wearing nothing but a thin white shift. Her hair was clean but tousled and fell loosely around her, so long now it reached the ground. Her legs were uncovered from above her knees down and as tempting as they were to look at, Thranduil was drawn to her eyes. They were clear and alert, filled with fear and more radiant than the bright purple image he had held of them inside his mind.

Thranduil was livid to return to find her in a horse stall, but one look at her caused him to hold his fury firmly in check. He walked slowly through the door, stopping a few feet in front of her. He did not want to come too close and frighten her further. He squatted, resting his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands in front of him.

“Lina,” his voice was soft and low, like the whisper of a satin brushing across skin. “Are you injured?”

Her soft pink lips parted slightly, but no sound came out, she simply shook her head and looked at him, mistrust written all across her face.

“Lina, you have nothing to fear, I am not going to hurt you,” he said reaching his hand out to her.


	39. Chapter 39

“A good scapegoat is nearly as welcome as a solution to the problem”

 

Amelina’s eyes remained fixed on Thranduil’s defiantly.  He withdrew his hand after an intense moment and let her win the stare down. He clasped his hands in together in front of himself again and stared at his laced fingers with a grin. Taking in a deep breath the King looked back up at her, pleased by the spark of anger in her eyes and encouraged by her contrariness.

At the same time, he felt a crushing sensation in his chest. She was not broken, but she was damaged, probably in ways that would be hard for him to hear about. Further, she believed he had abandoned her there in that cage, that he had walked away from her and left her there to die. She was angry with him and her eyes flashed dangerously.

“Amelina, I came back for you, that same night, I came back for you.” Seeing the look she gave him made him cringe. Although she did not say a word, he nodded in acknowledgment. “I understand that you do not trust me.” He paused, giving her a moment to consider his words.

“I have failed you in many ways Amelina, I will not fail you again. You have my word. I will protect you here with my life and when you are well enough, I promise you will have the freedom to go wherever you choose.”

This time, it was Amelina who looked down at her hands and Thranduil felt a rush deep in his heart. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold her. He searched his mind trying to find the right words, words that would make her feel safe with him, but he knew there was nothing he could say. She needed more than words and it would take time for him to show her his true feelings for her. Despite the urgent need he felt to pull her into him, he knew that he had to patient. He had to wait.

The sound of fast moving horse hooves followed by murmuring preceded Liliana’s entrance into the barn. “Amelina are you okay?” she said alarmed as she turned the corner, stopping short when she saw Thranduil. He rose to his full height, glowering at Liliana.

“What is the meaning of this? Why is she in the barn in her nightdress?”

“My Lord,” Liliana bowed deeply. “Bradiwen ordered her to be brought here….and there was an incident.”

“What kind of incident?” Thranduil demanded, his tone menacing.

“When I went to get my horse to carry her to the stables, the faerie bit Brandiwen.”

Thranduil turned and looked at Amelina. She looked down guiltily and rubbed her fingers over the fresh bruises on her wrist where Brandiwen had grabbed her.

“I touched the flowers,” she said.

Liliana turned to the King and smiled. He responded with a confused look.

“Those are the first words she has spoken.”

Understanding the importance of the moment, Thranduil crouched down in from of Amelina again.

“Did Brandiwen do that to you?” he asked pointing at her wrist.

Amelina nodded, her eyes becoming wet. “I’m sorry, I touched the flowers. I thought she was going to put me in a cage.”

Thranduil reached out a tipped her chin up to face to him. She startled a little at his touch.

“Lina, you never need be ashamed of defending yourself, do you understand?”

Amelina looked at him somewhat surprised, but she nodded.

Thranduil rose, turning to Liliana. “Did you bring her proper clothing?”

“Yes My Lord. “

“See to it that she is dressed and assist her back to the palace.”

Liliana nodded and Thranduil turned back to address Amelina.

“You may touch, eat, or do anything you want with the flowers I send to your room or with any of the palace flowers for that matter. You may bite or do whatever you see fit with anyone who tries to hurt you. Do you understand?” The faerie looked at him rather incredulously, but she nodded.

“Good. I will see you both in the dining hall at dinner.”

Liliana grinned as Thranduil left the stables, ordering his soldiers to stay outside until Liliana and the fae were finished. He left Legolas there to see to it that Amelina and Liliana were given safe passage back to the palace.

Thranduil returned to his halls to prepare Brandiwen for the faerie’s return and to clip her wings. She had overstepped her bounds and Thranduil would not have her interfering with Amelina’s recovery.  As he approached, he found a group of servants standing outside around a small fire pit, burning linens and clothing. “What is this?” Thranduil demanded.

“The queen….err The Lady of the palace ordered the faerie’s bedding and belongings burned. Thranduil frowned. It was too late to stop them from carrying out Brandiwen’s wishes. The items that had not yet been burned were laden in smoke and ashes. “In the future, you will no longer carry out Brandiwen’s orders without my permission to do so.”

“Yes my Lord.” The servant hung his head, feeling reprimanded, although Thranduil’s anger was not for the servant but rather for the elleth in the palace who had taken it upon herself to override his orders.

He arrived in his rooms to find Brandiwen surrounded by a group of healers. One of them turned to the King and bowed before approaching. He came close, invading Thranduil’s personal space. When he whispered in a low voice, Thranduil understood why. “It is a mere scratch and she need not be so worried about catching something. It is a myth that faeries carry diseases My Lord.”

Thranduil nodded and stepped over to where Brandiwen was being fawned over by what appeared to be half of Mirkwood’s healing community. “That will be all!”  His stern voice indicated his disapproval of the situation and the he healers rushed from the room, each bowing in turn as they retreated.

“Oh Thranduil!” she exclaimed teary eyed.  I am so glad you are finally here. That wretched creature attacked me, I was so frightened.” She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue for dramatic effect.

“I have been informed that you defied my orders to have her cared for in my absence and that you attacked her for touching the flowers I provided for her.”

Brandiwen looked at him wide eyed in disbelief. “Thranduil, you did not intend to keep her in the palace did you?”

“Yes, I _do_ intend to keep her in the palace. Furthermore, you are not to touch her or interfere with my orders for her in any way. Do you understand?”

Brandiwen’s eyes narrowed and her voice took on a superior tone. “She has seduced you, hasn't she? She will be your ruin Thranduil! You must fight her spell! Did she scratch you? She has poison in her nails, have you been infected?”

Thranduil laughed, much to Brandiwen’s chagrin. “Surely you are too old to believe in faerie tales Brandiwen.  You will see to it that Amelina’s room is prepared for her, she will be returning shortly.”

“Thranduil, you cannot keep her here, she has enchanted you! She will drain your life force and take everything from you. Darkness follows her, you must know this!”

“Do not presume to tell me where the darkness comes from,” Thranduil roared, towering down over her, pushing his face so close to hers their noses almost touched. “I have known darkness, more darkness than you can possibly imagine and it has nothing to do with faeries. We stopped scapegoating faeries back in the First Age when they were hunted to near extinction! I will not have such bigoted drivel spoken in my palace. Do you understand? “

Brandiwen shook, caught unaware by the King’s harsh demeanor. He had never spoken to her this way before and now she was a little frightened. “You will call back the healers for Amelina. Her injuries are far worse than the scratch she gave you. Her wrist is badly bruised, she is barely able to use it. You will not touch her again.” Thranduil spun pointedly from her , his boots tapping out a loud staccato that echoed through the stone caverns as he left.  Brandiwen sat alone, tears stinging her eyes. The faerie had cast an evil spell on the ElvenKing, she was certain of this now. It was up to her to save him. 


	40. Chapter 40

_“Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle.”_

_― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland_

 

The sun was high as Liliana and Amelina made their way back to the palace. Amelina tilted her back, allowing her face to be warmed. “I miss my farm, being outside, so does my little brother Donovan. It is hard being in the caves all day,” Liliana quipped, hoping the faerie would talk to her.

“You grow things?”

“Yes,” Liliana beamed. “Perhaps I can take you there when you are feeling better to see.”

“I would like to see.”

Thranduil watched the pair approaching. Brandiwen was right, he was enchanted. He could not take his eyes off of her. Her low cut, ruffled blouse fell almost off her shoulders as she turned her face to the sun.  The rush he felt every time he saw her did not come from poisoned fingernails or faerie dust. It was he, in truth, who had lured her into his snare. She had been innocent, hesitant, but he had pushed her. He had treated her like a pet, now he needed to teach her her worth.

He had not intended to see her again until dinner, not wanting to overwhelm her, but the sight of her soaking in the sun stirred him, sending electric currents sparking through his veins. He found himself walking to the horse and holding out his hand to help her dismount.  

Amelina took his hand this time, her eyes cautiously meeting his. He smiled warmly at her. She was tired, he could see it in the deepening circles under her eyes and feel it in her grasp.  She clutched onto him as if she was afraid she would fall.  The events of that morning had obviously wearied her.

Thranduil wrapped his arm firmly around her waist, giving her stability as he escorted her through the stone arch of the palace. He was not surprised to find that Brandiwen was making a production of having a room prepared for Amelina. Apparently she had taken it upon herself to see that the faerie was moved as far away from Thranduil’s suites as possible.  Thranduil decided not to interrupt her and instead ordered a servant to prepare the room adjoining his for Amelina and he led the faerie to his bed chamber.

Tears welled up in her eyes when she saw the bed and Thranduil quickly realized she misunderstood his meaning in bringing her here. He felt her trembling as he pulled back the coverlet and sat her on the bed. “Lina” he said kneeling in front of her, “I am not going to hurt you. You are safe with me.” She sniffled and Thranduil pulled the flat slippers Lilian had given her from her feet. He looked at the bare instep of her small foot and the smooth skin of her ankle and wondered if she really was safe with him. It was excruciating to have her so close, in his bed, and not be able to touch her the way he wanted to.

“You can rest here until your new room is ready. Can I get you anything?” She rubbed her eyes sleepily and shook her head, trying to stifle a yawn that came anyway. “Okay, he lifted her legs onto the bed and pulled the cover over her as she lay down. He suppressed the urge to kiss her and forced himself to move away from her. “I will watch over you, you have nothing to fear.”  

As if on cue, Amelina closed her eyes and soon he was listening to the soft even breaths of her sleep. He moved to sit in a chair in the far corner of the room so he would not be tempted to trace the delicate curves of her face as she slept. He had searched for her for so long, not knowing if he would ever see her again and now here she was in front of him. She had been returned to him.  Fate had offered him a sweet and rare gift, granting him his heart’s deepest desire.

She had been asleep for over an hour when she began to stir. Thranduil rose from his chair, wanting to be there when she opened his eyes, but he quickly realized something was wrong. Amelina was still asleep, but her body was jerking and she was crying. “No! No! Noooooo!” Her voice was distressed, growing louder and louder and she began to shake violently.

“Lina, you are okay, it is just a dream,” his voice was soft and soothing and he placed his hands on her shoulders. She screamed, bolting upright in the bed and began struggling against him. “Amelina!” This time his voice was louder and filled with concern.

“Thranduil,” she whispered, still gasping for air.

“Yes angel, it is me. I have you, you are okay.” He knew he should not, but he pulled her into his arms and gently stroked her hair. Amelina fought to hold back the tears but the sound of his silken voice and the tenderness in his touch broke open the dam behind her eyes and she began sobbing.  It had been so long since somebody had touched her without hurting her. She knew it was only temporary, that Thranduil would tire of her soon and sell her again, but for now she let herself collapse into his warm embrace and be comforted.

When her body stopped shaking and she quieted, Thranduil pulled her from him, cupping her face in his hands. “Amelina, can you tell me about your nightmare?”

“No,” her face crinkled up and she started crying again.

“Okay angel,” he said wiping the tears away with his thumbs, “You do not have to now, but you will have to talk to me.  I am here for you. You cannot hold all of this in.” Amelina blinked at him several times and Thranduil decided not to push her for the time being. She had already had a difficult day and he knew her trust would have to be won, not forced.

“I will send Liliana in to tend to you and then the seamstress will be coming in to assist you with a new wardrobe. I will see you this evening at dinner.” He kissed the tip of her nose, steeling himself against the intense desire he had to take her mouth with his, to taste her again. He stood, making a quick exit from the room before his resolve crumbled and he ravished her.

Liliana came in with a small tray of fruit and water for Amelina. She brushed her hair while the faerie nibbled on green apple slices, making a few braids and pulling the long strands back from her face. Just as she was placing a filigreed comb with amethyst jewels in the fae’s hair, the seamstress came into room. She had an entourage with her, six elves carrying armloads of materials and boxes of adornments.

“Oh my dear,” she cooed, “You have the most stunning eyes! Now the King has ordered that you are to choose exactly what you want but I do hope you will entertain a few suggestions. I have a wonderful royal purple velvet that will accent your eyes perfectly!”

Amelina felt uncomfortable at first. She was not used to being fussed over in such a way and the cloth that was brought for her was luxurious and of higher quality than anything she had ever worn. At first she pushed the bolts of material away. “It is too much, I cannot wear this.”

The seamstress frowned. “Too much what my dear?”

“It costs too much, there must be some mistake.”

“Oh no darling, there has been no mistake. The King ordered that only the finest fabrics be brought for your inspection. Do you not like them?”

“Oh, I do, they are beautiful, but….”

“No buts my dear,” the seamstress said giddily, taking Amelina’s hand “This is going to be so much fun!”

Thranduil peered in the room after a few hours had passed, unnoticed, wanting to check on Amelina. He was worried that the afternoon of being fitted for a new wardrobe might be too taxing for her. She was standing on a wooden block wearing a cheery smile that Thranduil had not seen for what seemed like an eternity. The seamstress flounced her skirt and said “There, how about this length?”

Amelina began a pirouetting and suddenly she was spinning rapidly, her gown swirling around her, stunning everyone in the room. The sight took Thranduil’s breathe away. She ended the movement quickly, giggling. The smile disappeared from her face as she saw everyone staring at her in disbelief.

The seamstress quickly recovered herself and clapped her hands together loudly. “Bravo, my dear, I have not seen such talent even on the stage. I did not know you were a dancer.”

“All faeries are dancer’s,” Amelina said looking down at her hands slightly embarrassed, “It is nothing special.”

“Oh, darling, that was very special!” the seamstress said with gusto and Amelina blushed, the smile returning to her face.

“Now let’s talk about jewelry!” The seamstress exclaimed with great enthusiasm, throwing her hands in the air.

Amelina’s eyes sparkled when the seamstress opened the small wooden chest sitting on the carved granite table. Thranduil grinned and stepped away, not wanting to be seen. He felt lighter. Her joy in having new clothing made for her warmed him. He wanted nothing more than to provide her with a real life faerie tale. He wanted her to have beautiful things, he wanted her to have security, a place she could call home and someone who loved her, loved her more than life itself. Most of all he wanted her to love him back.

***

Amelina felt excited. Most of her clothing would take some time, but tonight she would be wearing a gown of a rich blue organza. The dress was simple yet exquisite. It was the most luxurious outfit she had ever worn, with a silver threaded, low lying belt just below the waist and a scooped neckline.

For the first time, Amelina would be wearing a bejeweled headpiece, a silver circlet with small sapphire stones. She was not sure she liked it as much as the flower crowns she used to braid by hand, but it was exotic to her and made her feel particularly attractive in an unusual sort of way. She had not felt pretty for a very long time.  

She was too thin and the seamstress was leaving extra material to be let out as she recovered. Still, her breasts were large compared to most elleths.  Even in her emaciated state, the dress accentuated the soft swellings and even showed a bit of bared curvature. Liliana dabbed some sort of cream under eyes that concealed the dark circles, before stepping her in front of a full length mirror.

Amelina’s eyes filled with tears, she had never had anything quite so exquisite and she hardly recognized herself. “No crying now,” Liliana said kissing her on the cheek. “Tonight is a happy night okay?” Amelina nodded giving Liliana a grateful smile.

*****

Brandiwen was furious that the King had brought the faerie back to the palace. She had ordered that linens of poor quality be brought up from the servant’s quarters and had a mattress of straw assembled for the room. She did not wish to see any of the King’s finery ruined by the creature. Brandiwen was worried about the spread of disease, so she moved the faerie’s room to the farthest quarters in the King’s halls.

The worst news came when she learned that Thranduil intended to have the faerie in the dining hall that evening. They were entertaining Lord Elrond’s son, Elladan. Brandiwen could not imagine what spell had possessed the King to see it fit that a faerie should attend such an event. She felt embarrassed for the Thranduil, he was going to make a fool of himself in front of the Prince of Rivendell. He actually intended for the creature to eat with them. It was unthinkable.  

She had a separate place setting put at the far end of the table for the fae. She would not allow the faerie to sully the palace china. Instead, she had a place setting sent from the prison. It could be melted down after the meal. She left to find Thranduil now that all the preparations were in place. She would try to talk him out of this nonsense one more time.

 

 


	41. Chapter 41

_“The only thing worse than not knowing where she belonged...was knowing where she didn't.”_

_― Tessa Shaffer_

 

 

Amelina was the first to arrive for dinner. She was excited and had been prepared for nearly a half an hour before a servant came to escort her to the dining hall. She was also nervous and worried that her dress was too much. She wanted to be perfect, well, as perfect as she could be in front of Thranduil. As much as she hated to admit it, she wanted to impress him.  Liliana had helped her get ready and then had left to prepare for the evening herself, seeming as anxious about their dinner plans as Amelina.

The dining hall was empty except for Brandiwen. Her distaste when the faerie entered was evident. She pursed her lips, her face stern and harsh and her eyes raked over Amelina disapprovingly. “Your seat is there,” she ordered, looking away from the fae and pointing to the opposite side of the room, appalled that Thranduil had afforded such luxurious attire for the creature.

Amelina’s place was set in the far corner of the room. Her heart sank. The long buffet table was arranged beautifully, but her setting was at a small table at the rear of the hall, a great, empty distance from the other diners and from all of the delectable appetizers already lying in wait for the dinner party. She was set apart and isolated from all of them.

Brandiwen ignored the faerie as the servants brought in colorful platters of foods and decanters filled with wine. The servant filling the wine goblets looked over at Amelina and he moved to her remote, shadowed corner, filling her mismatched metal cup full of the deep red liquid with an apologetic bow.

Amelina looked down at her lap, embarrassed now to be there. She lifted her head when the servant left and scanned the room, searching for a way to escape, but there was only one door and Legolas was walking through it, a beaming, blushing Liliana on his arm. Amelina was happy to see them together. She had seen the forlorn look in Liliana’s eyes every time Legolas’ name was mentioned.  

Elladan came in next and Brandiwen was instantly upon him, fawning over him and showing him his seat, next to hers. He smiled at her uncomfortably as she carried on about the menu, promising the King would make his appearance soon.

Amelina sank down deeper into her spindly, uncomfortable chair, hoping to disappear. It was humiliating to be ignored and isolated from the group.  Retreat was not an option now, she could not leave unnoticed. Thranduil finally made his entrance to the hall last, in a rush of gilded robes. He paused to formally greet and welcome Elladan.

Amelina could not help but stare at him.  He was magnificent. His long silver hair draped gracefully over his broad shoulders and the tight fitted, jacquard jacket beneath his robe hinted at the muscular frame Amelina knew lay underneath.  His finely chiseled features were softened by the glow of the lanterns and his glacial blue eyes flickered in the candlelight as they searched over the guests.

Brandiwen wrapped her arm in the King’s elbow and leaned into him. She wanted Prince Elladan to be impressed with her tonight, hoping he would take tales of Mirkwood’s beautiful and perfect new queen to be back to the elves of his land  and to his Father, Lord Elrond of Rivendell. It was her dream to be held in high regard amongst all the peoples of her kind.  

Seeing Brandiwen hanging on Thranduil made Amelina nauseous. This was not going to be an evening where she would shine in her new attire for the King, but rather an evening of misery watching him and his lover from her lonely spectator seat. She had gone from feeling giddy and beautiful to feeling ashamed and trapped in a matter of minutes.  Defeated, she reached for her dingy wine mug.

Thranduil scowled, recoiling from Brandiwen’s overtures and looked around for Amelina, but she was not to be found. His eyes fixed and narrowed on Liliana. Just as he was about to demand to know where Amelina was, a loud cry came from the far end of the room and the sound of a metal clanking against the stone floor startled everyone.

Amelina lifted her wine cup and felt a familiar burning sensation. She heard the sizzle of her skin melting and a thin trail of steam rose from her hands. She gasped  at the searing pain and dropped her cup. It clattered to the floor loudly, the deep red wine splattering all down the front of her new gown. 

She lifted her eyes to find everyone was staring at her as the pain of the burn radiated through her arm and the acrid tang of burnt flesh permeated the air around her.  “I told you she should not be here, she is already making a scene,” Brandiwen hissed under her breath.

Amelina’s eyes darted around wildly, looking for a way out but before she could gather herself to make a dash for the door, the King was at her side, taking her burned hand in his, his touch cool and soothing. Thranduil’s eyes raked over Amelina’s place setting and he gave Brandiwen a lethal glare “You burned her!” he growled, his voice low and menacing.

“I did not touch her!” Brandiwen said defensively, heat rising in her face.

“Iron! Iron burns faeries!” he bellowed and it was Brandiwen’s turn to feel embarrassed.

“Well, I did not know that! My father forbade us to have anything to do with such creatures!” It was the second time in a week Brandiwen had reminded the King of whose daughter she was. She came from noble stock and wealth.  Thranduil was well aware of the expectations her Father had when he had agreed to send her to live in the King’s halls. She had been groomed to be the mate of royalty, or at the very least, an elf of the high court.

Brandiwen looked around the room for support, certain everyone would share her revulsion at having the faerie at their dinner. To her utter dismay, the revulsion seemed to be directed at _her_. Everyone was glowering at her as if she was some sort of a monster.

Thranduil dismissively turned his attention back to Amelina.  Her eyes were trained to the floor, wet with tears, and he could feel the tension inside of her. He knew she wanted to bolt. Still holding her injured hand in his, he bent down and spoke softly in her ear. “Do not run Amelina.”

He led her to his place at the head of the table and pulled out his chair for her. She looked at him in surprise as he gently coaxed her into the soft, velvet covered seat, taking Brandiwen’s chair for himself. He pulled the fine cloth napkin from beneath the silver and filled it with ice from the wine chiller, wrapping it around Amelina’s hand.

Brandiwen stared in disbelief as everyone followed suit and took their seats at the table.  Holding back angry tears of white hot rage, she ordered the servant to bring another place setting and she took the empty seat on the other side of Elladan, not daring now to object to the fae being right in the middle of the dinner guests.

She watched in horror as the King whispered to the faerie, as if they were the only ones in the room, before resting her wrapped hand on the table and filling her plate for her. Brandiwen felt bile coming up in the back of her throat. Placing the fae’s injured hand on the surface they were to eat off of made her genuinely ill and she shuddered.     

“Are you okay angel?” Thranduil whispered in Amelina’s ear. She nodded, still desperately fighting back the tears. Thranduil wanted to whisk her away, to take her somewhere private and kiss away her pain and insecurity, but he knew he could not. If she were to survive in this world, she would have to learn to not back down to those such as Brandiwen. She would have to know her own worth in order to access her full power and learn how to protect herself.

He noticed the care she had taken in her appearance that evening and frowned at the wine stains on her gown. “You must order the seamstress to replace your dress, you chose well, it is stunning on you.” His breath was hot in her ear. Amelina felt a tingling sensation run down her spine and she quivered slightly. Thranduil let his hand brush over her thigh under the table and goosebumps rose on her bare arms.

Brandiwen took a small nibble from the corner of her bread as the conversation at the table picked up, appalled that no one else seemed to have lost their appetite due to the creature at the head of the dinner table. She glowered at Thranduil who was looking at the faerie as if she were one of edible delights the attendants were serving.

Amelina studied Thranduil carefully, using the same silverware he did, trying to mimic him. She knew that etiquette at the royal table was a subject she was not well versed in. She had always eaten with her fingers. It was a good thing she was ambidextrous or her injured hand might have kept her from even trying and that would have been tragic because the food was so good it made her want to cry. The delicious smells had awakened a voracious appetite in her and she found herself eating nearly all of the huge portions Thranduil had served her. 

Legolas and Liliana made sure to include Amelina in the conversation, much to Brandiwen’s chagrin. She butted in several times to try and turn the attention away from the fae, wondering if the creature had managed to enchant everyone at the table except her. By the end of the meal, Brandiwen was rushing everyone through desert, eager to get the evening over with. Nothing had gone according to her plan because of the faerie and she had failed to make a favorable impression on the Prince of Rivendell.

She seethed as she watched Elladan rise from his seat and pull a large green leaf from beneath a bunch of green grapes and walk over to the fae’s side.  He knelt down close to her and said, “If I may, My Lady.” He took her wounded hand and unraveled the napkin filled with melting ice it from her injury.

Brandiwen scoffed, why was he addressing her as “My Lady?” She was no lady, she was a faerie! He carefully placed the leaf on Amelina’s red, blistered palm and closed his eyes, offering a whispered chant. Amelina sighed as she felt the pain beginning to subside.

Brandiwen was not the only one seething. The King felt his own insides burning, seeing the way Amelina responded to Elladan’s touch and at listening to the relieved sigh he elicited from her as he worked on her wound.  She did not hesitate or back away from the Prince at all, yet she still flinched any time Thranduil tried to touch her, he thought, suppressing the urge to knock Elladan’s hands from her and pummel him.  She seemed perfectly at ease with the Prince and that fact stoked the flames of jealousy Thranduil felt growing hotter the longer the Prince held onto her. He knew Elladan had been with her and Radagast at Rhosgobel but he did not know how close Amelina and the Prince had become.

Having seen enough, Thranduil dragged his chair loudly from the table. Elladan's eyes popped open and he quickly released the faerie’s hand. “I think it is time for Amelina to rest,” Thranduil announced gruffly, grabbing Amelina's arm a bit too roughly and lifting her from her seat. Elladan bowed and withdrew, sensing the King’s displeasure.

Without a further glance at his guests, Thranduil escorted Amelina from the hall, walking so fast she had a difficult time keeping pace with him.  


	42. Chapter 42

_“She is free in her wildness, she is a wanderess, a drop of free water. She knows nothing of borders and cares nothing for rules or customs. 'Time' for her isn’t something to fight against. Her life flows clean, with passion, like fresh water.”_

_― Roman Payne_

 

Thranduil’s grip on Amelina’s arm was painful.  She was moving her legs as quickly as she could, but the satin slippers she had been given to match her dress were a problem. Being accustomed to going barefoot, the slippers dug painfully into her heels and the soles kept catching in the grooves of the stone floor. She stumbled, pitching forward head first. Thranduil caught her, cursing. Twisting her arm against his iron grip, she broke free, and started to sprint but he caught her easily, jerking her back to him. She fell hard against him, hands splayed across his chest.

“Amelina, enough!” he said in a low growl. Looking down at her, he was surprised to find her fluorescent purple eyes flashing and a look of defiance on her face. She wriggled as much as she could in his tight embrace and managed to kick off her slippers, the first one skidding across the floor, the second taking flight and hitting the wall behind them before landing on the floor with a soft thunk.

She was panting and Thranduil watched her intently, enticed by her close proximity and her short, heavy breaths. His eyes trailed down to the quick rise and fall of her breasts and he could feel his own heart begin to hammer beneath the hand she had planted firmly on his chest. The rebel in her always turned him on.

He raised an eyebrow at her “Are you mad because I took you away from your Prince Charming?” Her eyes registered confusion for a second before she began to struggle against him. “Easy Lina,” he said shackling her wrists in his hands, “You will exhaust yourself.”

She raised a foot, intending to kick him, but he brought his knee up under hers, catching her off guard. Resting his boot on a ledge, he lifted her with his knee, forcing her to straddle his leg.  Amelina had no choice but to put her hands back on his chest to balance herself. The sensation of his hard thigh between her legs caused her to gasp. The thin material of her undergarment offered little protection and the width of his thigh parted her enough that she was open against him. Her cheeks flushed pink, accenting her wide, purple eyes and her lips parted.

The sight of her shock and arousal kindled a fire that flashed through his veins and Thranduil leaned in, pressing his mouth to hers, a groan forming in the back of his throat.  She surprised him by wrapping her arms around his neck and he deepened the kiss, covering her mouth with his while mentally cautioning himself to move slowly so as not to frighten her. He glided his tongue along her lips and then parted them enough to slip it inside her mouth. She whimpered at the sensation and loosed her grip, shifting more of her weight to his thigh, pressing her sex harder against him.

Amelina felt a hot wetness between her legs as his tongue flickered along hers and her nipples tightened against the laced bodice of her dress. She quivered slightly at the coiling tension in her belly, the pain in her hand all but forgotten. Thranduil felt her moist heat against his thigh and forced himself to resist the need to push her against the wall and take her right there in the hallway.

He reluctantly pulled back from her while it was still within his power to do so and gently lowered her feet down to the ground. He cupped her face in his hands, his eyes smoldering with passion.

Amelina felt an empty chill as soon as he moved his body from hers and she straightened pushing down her skirts and covering herself, her hands trembling. As her eyes travelled back up his long legs, she gasped in horror at the wet spot on Thranduil’s pants where she had been perched just a moment before. She covered her mouth with her hand, turned away from the sight in shame, and bolted.

Thranduil cursed again and closed the distance between them in two long strides, catching her at the waist and spinning her around to face him. “You cannot run away from me Amelina, I will always catch you.” His voice was heavy and thick and Amelina felt the weight of it in her chest as she heaved to catch her breath, her cheeks stained crimson in embarrassment.

“I…I’m sorry she stammered, her voice cracking.”

“Sorry for what angel?”

“For soiling your clothing,” her voice hitched and she hiccupped down a sob.

“Lina,” he said her name with such deep conviction she could not help but raise her eyes to his. “Your desire is worth more to me than all of the gems and gold in Erebor. It is my, treasure. Never be ashamed of it,” he whispered huskily.

“No! I am filthy and evil and I ruin the souls of all who touch me! Let me go!” she shouted struggling to break free.

“Oh no Lina….Lina, no,” he crooned, locking her in his embrace. “That is not true. Those are the words of jealous fools, words that come from their own evil hearts.” Thranduil sighed as she sobbed into his shoulder. He knew from her nightmares that the effects of her captivity went far deeper than the physical damage she had suffered.

He should have known that the female dwarves would have invoked all of the old superstitions about faeries to explain away their deviant husband’s deplorable behavior with her. He silently berated himself for letting Brandiwen have access her as she harbored many of the same misguided notions.

Realizing that Brandiwen’s treatment of her that evening had no doubt brought memories of her torture to the surface and not wanting to encounter anyone in the hallway while she was crying so hard, Thranduil lifted her like a child and carried her to his bed chamber. She was still very thin and he could feel the ribs in her back.

He moved quickly to protect her from prying eyes and palace gossip. When he reached his room he kicked the door closed behind him and sat down on the bed with Amelina in his lap.  “Look at me Lina,” he said gently, pulling her away from him and tilting her chin. Her tears held a faint violet hue and he wiped them away with his thumbs, holding her gaze with his.

“Whoever told you those things was cruel and evil. You did not cause what happened to you.” She choked back a sob and Thranduil knew it was going to take more than words to convince her that it was not her fault she had been treated so brutally. “The dwarves are clearly mad. They are given to old wives tales and superstitions and they used them to hurt you. It was not your fault Lina.”

“But I am ruined,” she whispered.

“No Princess, you are hurt, but you will heal. I promise. ”

“She hates me.”

“Who hates you?”

“Your lover, Brandiwen, because I call you like a Siren, but I do not mean to call anybody. It is just when you touch me I…I….,” she choked and started crying again.

“Oh sweetheart, she is not my lover. Brandiwen holds no claim to me and I am sorry I let her near you. She is just angry that I do not want her the way I want you. She is not very bright. She does not know many things that you do, she has never been outside of Mirkwood.” he said kissing her tears.

Amelina smiled ruefully. “But I do not even know what silver to use at the table or how to run in slippers.”

Thranduil laughed, “Those things are simple tasks that can be easily learned by anyone. They do not make her better than you.”  He looked down at her and saw the half-moons appearing under her eyes now that the concealer had been washed away.

“You need to rest, it has been a long day, too long.” He wanted to undress her and tuck her in his bed but he did not trust himself to be with her tonight. She was so responsive to his touch and he was already aching for her. If he pushed her any further this night, he would risk resurrecting more of the demons that haunted her, and she was clearly exhausted.

“I will call for a servant to assist you in getting ready for bed and I will see you in the morning.” He kissed her forehead and stood her on her feet, taking her arm in his and leading her to the doorway. “If you need me, call for me, no matter the hour.  The servants will find me. Do you understand?” he asked tilting her chin up to him.

She nodded, her eyes now heavily lidded. “Get some sleep angel. Tomorrow we have work to do.” Amelina looked at him questioningly but he had already opened the door and was ordering the servant to take her.

He watched as she went through the doorway of her room next to his and turned on his heel, heading back toward the dining hall to find Elladan.  Thranduil did not care whose son he was, if he had harmed her in any way while she was with the Brown Wizard, Lord Elrond’s son would die this night.

As he turned the corner Thranduil paused, finding Legolas and Liliana in the hallway in front of him, in much the same compromising position he had been in not long before with Amelina. He shook his head and continued walking past them without a word, his boots tapping on the stone floor.

Legolas and Liliana quickly untangled themselves from each other and stood gaping at the tall figure of the King passing by them in silence. Liliana looked at Legolas and stifled a giggle. He smiled and shrugged, taking her back in his arms again.    

 

 


	43. Chapter 43

_“All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, A light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be blade that was broken, The crownless again shall be king.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring_

 

 

Thranduil stormed into the dining hall to find it empty. The servant stuttered when he informed the irate King that Elladan was tending to Brandiwen, who had fainted after he left with the fae. Rolling his eyes, Thranduil set out down the corridor to Brandiwen’s room, almost bumping into the Prince of Rivendell as he briskly turned a corner.

Elladan bowed and Thranduil took a step back, eyeing him coolly. “What exactly is the nature of your relationship to the faerie?” His voice was level and cold and Elladan bristled at the King’s tone.

“Surely you know she is much more than just a faerie?”

“Of course I know!  What I do not know is what your interest in her is and what your relationship with her has been,” Thranduil snapped, his abrasive tone reflecting his impatience. 

“My Father sent me when he learned she had been rescued and was with the Brown Wizard. I was sent to assist in her healing and for her protection.” Elladan’s posture was defensive. He was certain the King had taken advantage of Amelina and was none too pleased that he was all but being accused of the doing the same.

“Seeing as your Father was responsible for her when she escaped under his nose, I am not surprised he sent you. However, you have yet to answer my question.”

“My Father believes she was not in any shape to escape. He believes she was assisted out of Lorien, by someone in _your_ inner circle.” Elladan crossed his arms and the challenge in his voice was unmistakable. He was not some lowly servant and he would not be pushed around by the Mirkwood King for his role in securing the faerie’s safety.

“Is that so? Still, again, I have not heard a response to my question. Why are you avoiding giving me a direct answer?” By this time, Thranduil’s cool demeanor had shifted to a dark and menacing.

“I was not with her long.  She was beginning to trust me a bit, but not enough to speak to me. She was used, but not by me My Lord.” Elladan tried to match the same dark tone as the King’s and he knew that Thranduil was too sharp to miss the implications of his statement; he was not the one in this conversation that had used the faerie.

Thranduil stared at the younger elf before him for a long moment. He looked much like his Father, Lord Elrond, but more elvish. To the unknowing eye, it would be nearly impossible to tell that his Father was half human. Satisfied that Elladan was telling the truth, and refusing to explain his relationship with Amelina to the obtrusive Prince, he turned on his heel.

“Walk with me.”

Elladan fell into step beside the King. Out of decorum and respect, he did not ask Thranduil the question that was burning in his mind, the question being just what the exact nature of The King’s relationship to the faerie was. He saw the spark of jealousy in Thranduil’s eyes at dinner when he had tried to help Amelina with the burn on her hand. Yet by appearances, the King was committed to Brandiwen, or at least she seemed to think so. That meant that despite his protective stance on the fae, the King’s own intentions toward Amelina were less than chivalrous. Yet something was amiss, although Elladan could not quite put his finger on it. Thranduil was clearly more concerned about Amelina than Brandiwen, and, if he was not mistaken, the King was beholden to the fae on some deep level. Elladan was willing to go so far as to speculate that the legendary warrior King of Mirkwood was actually in love.

Elladan grinned to himself at the thought of Brandiwen. He was quite taken by her long, white blond hair and cold blue eyes. He was used to dealing with elleths of high breeding and their nonsensical superiority. He had caught her when she fainted and enjoyed the look of surprise in her eyes when she awoke in his arms, clearly uncomfortable with the closeness, yet somehow captivated by it, though she would never admit to it.

Feeling brave, Elladan spoke up, “If I may My Lord, I would like to inquire as to the nature of your relationship with Brandiwen?”

Thranduil gave him a death stare and Elladan quickly offered an explanation. “I noticed she is none to pleased with the faerie’s presence here and I am accustomed to dealing with elleths of her kind. I would be happy to provide a distraction for her so that you can attend to Amelina without so much interference.”

Thranduil’s immediate reaction was to pummel the Prince for being so bold, but he quickly saw the merit in the situation Elladan was proposing.

“She is quite attractive is she not?”

“Yes My Lord.”

“She is no palace whore. If she were to be compromised, you would have her Father to deal with and my wrath as well.”

“I understand My Lord. I am a Prince of Rivendell, my honor would forbid me from taking advantage of any living being for my own pleasure.”

“Very well then.” Thranduil did not miss the spring in Elladan’s step once he had given him permission to spend time with Brandiwen, nor did he miss the dart shot over the bow at him regarding the faerie, but he chose to ignore it. He did not owe an explanation to anyone. He would move mountains for Amelina, he would die for her and it mattered naught to him what conclusions Elladan had jumped to. The faerie was none if his concern.

After dismissing Elladan, Thranduil returned to check on Amelina. She had been very tired and he expected her to sleep for some time. Walking into her room, a sharp stab of fear went through his heart when he saw the rumpled covers and an empty bed. Would she leave him again? Had he not promised her freedom once she was strong if that was what she wanted? He stepped into the room searching and was relieved to find her huddled in a corner, her knees to her chest, the material of a white gossamer night gown spread around her.

“Lina,” he called, rushing to kneel by her side. She startled when he placed a hand on her shoulder.  He lifted her face to his and he saw terror in her eyes. He gently wrapped her in his arms, his large body enveloping her and he could hear her choking back a sob. “It is okay little one,” he crooned softly, “Do not fight it. Let it out.”

Her thin body began quaking with heavy sobs and Thranduil rocked her and stroked her hair. “That’s right angel, let it all out.” She cried for what seemed an eternity, until there were no more tears and her throat was raw and her breaths ragged. “Talk to me Amelina,” Thranduil whispered, “Was it a bad dream?” She nodded in the dark, her throat too parched to speak.

“What happened to you Amelina? Tell me,” Thranduil encouraged.

“I can’t” she croaked, her voice jagged and dry. Thranduil stood easily, holding her firmly in his arms and for a moment her nightmares were forgotten and she marveled at his strength. She sighed heavily, it was good to feel safe, even though she knew she was not safe anywhere and that this feeling was only an illusion. He might sell her tomorrow. But for this one moment, she relaxed in his arms, drinking in the feeling of security she only found in his embrace.

He sat on the edge of the bed holding her in one arm as he brought a glass of water to her lips. She gulped and he pulled back. “Slowly sweetheart.” She drank thirstily and he patiently let her catch her breath before offering her more.

When she finished, he sat the goblet on the table and pulled her head into his chest. “You have to talk to me angel. Tell me what happened to you. Talking about it will make the nightmares stop.”

She buried her face into his shirt and closed her eyes tightly. “I didn’t want them to touch me, but they did anyway. I tried to fight but it didn’t matter, I could not fly away.”

“You were still very weak Amelina that is why you could not get away. It was not your fault.”

“There were no females the first night when they caught me, only males. There were many of them” she cried. “But the wives said it was my fault after I woke up in the cage. They said I was a witch and that I was calling their husbands even though I scratched at bit them whenever they…when they…” The sobs started again and Thranduil tightened his embrace.

“Okay honey, it’s okay. You are doing great.”

“There were only three males that came to my cage. They brought me food sometimes. The wives only brought me food that poisoned. They wanted me to die. They said I was an animal whenever I scratched one of their husband’s for hurting me. I refused the husband’s no matter how hungry I was, I always fought them but sometimes I woke up and they were already…already….”

Thranduil kissed the top of her head and reached to wipe her tears away. “I am so sorry Amelina, I did not know where you were. I did not know you were being hurt.”

Several moments of silence passed before Thranduil spoke again. “I will teach you to harness your power Amelina. I will help you grow strong and learn how to defend yourself. It will be hard work, but you will be certain that nobody will ever hurt you again.”

“But I am not the same….”

“You have faced something that has changed you. Listen to me Lina, I am old, much older than you and I have faced many trials. You survived. You survived!  You will grow stronger, not lesser because of this.”

Amelina sniffled and Thranduil laid her down on the bed and pulled the covers up over her. “I will stay here with you tonight and every night until the nightmares stop. Hold onto me Princess, I will get you through this.” Thranduil slid his long frame alongside her in the bed, encompassing her in his arms. “Everything will be okay Amelina, I promise. Everything is going to be okay.”


	44. Chapter 44

_“Because teachers, no matter how kind, no matter how friendly, are sadistic and evil to the core.”_  
― Heather Brewer

 

Amelina awoke to a tray of fresh fruit and juices. “The King is waiting for you, I will assist you with breakfast and preparations for the day.” Amelina rubbed her sleepy eyes and sat up in bed staring at the stranger in her room. Thranduil had been with her during the night. She had felt his arms around her and had slept more deeply than she had since she had been rescued from her cage.

Despite her displeasure with being assisted by someone she did not know, she quickly became at ease with the elleth the King had assigned to her.  There were no complaints when Amelina asked the attendant to turn around while she undressed and then climbed into the pool to wash. The servant complied with her request with a simple “Please let me know if you require my help in any way.”

Amelina wanted to linger in the pool, the water was warm and the lilac scented soaps were heavenly, but she knew Thranduil was waiting for her and she was anxious to find out why. He had said they had work to do, but Amelina was unsure what that meant. Still, she eagerly anticipated being near him again. She had awakened with a painful longing, finding him gone from her side. There was a strange empty feeling, an insecurity she felt without him.

The servant had already set out her clothes for her when she crawled from the pool. She wrapped herself in the warmed, fluffy towel that seemed such a luxury after her year in the cage having cold buckets of water thrown at her. 

The clothing choice was a comfortable faerie dress that had been made at Amelina’s request. It was like the clothes she remembered wearing before she had arrived at the foot of the King’s throne. She slipped the one piece, pale rose dress on over her shift. The jagged, layered skirt reached just below her knees.  The sleeves were short and made of the same sheer material as the skirt. A soft, bodice of thin fabric made the outfit ultra-lightweight and easy to move in.  The seamstress had made the v neckline a bit too deep and a hint of cleavage peeked between the soft swell of her breasts at its deepest point.

Amelina looked at the faded marks on her arms.  The burns from her imprisonment were healing nicely and her limbs were beginning to look normal again. She had even put on a couple of much needed pounds and her body was slowly filling out.

Amelina felt nervous as she made her way through the long corridor to where Thranduil was awaiting her. Her slippers today were more comfortable than her last pair, but she still preferred to be barefoot. At least she felt comfortable in her familiar clothing.  

She frowned as she passed several giggling elleths in the hallway. They stopped and stared at her and whispered. They were beautiful, like Brandiwen, tall and slim, unlike Amelina’s shorter, curvier form. They had long blonde hair and bright blue eyes, like Thranduil, and Amelina stood in awe of their beauty.

“We have arrived My Lady,” the servant said as they turned a corner and walked through an arched doorway.  Thranduil stood in a relaxed pose, talking with another elf. He was leaning against a stone wall, his arms crossed. Though thoroughly immersed in conversation, he seemed to sense her presence and looked up as soon as Amelina crossed the threshold.

He was dressed casually in a fitted white shirt, tight camel colored trousers and high, brown leather boots.  Amelina could not help but to gape, her eyes traveling up and down his lean masculine form.  He was absolutely the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. Her eyes met his and his lips quirked in amusement at her obvious appreciation. Amelina blushed deeply and looked down at her feet.

“Good morning angel,” he said in a rich, velvety tone, his eyes lingering on the dipping neckline of her dress.

“Good morning,” Amelina mumbled, feeling awkward as Thranduil closed the distance between them, his graceful stride and regal posture causing her to stare again. His eyes twinkled as he took her hands in his and lightly brushed her cheek with his lips.

“I trust you slept well?”

“Yes,” Amelina rasped, her throat feeling suddenly dry and her knees turning to butter at his touch.

Thranduil smirked and slipped his long fingers into hers. “Good, then let us be on our way,” he said pulling her alongside him. They walked silently to the massive doors leading out of the caves. Thranduil led the way, giving her curious glances.

Amelina let out a gasp as they approached a stable hand standing next to a giant elk that was saddled and seemed anxious to be on the move. Thranduil smiled, pleased with her reaction and took her to the head of the great beast, allowing her to stroke his muzzle. She said something to the animal in a language Thranduil had never heard before and the animal snorted and bobbed its head as if he understood her.

Thranduil placed his hands around her tiny waist and lifted her onto the back of the elk. Her faerie skirt with its many slits and layers allowed her to straddle their magnificent mount and Thranduil eased himself into the saddle behind her.  He felt her sharp intake of air as he pressed her back into him, and secured her, with an arm wrapped snuggly under her breasts. He breathed in the lilac scent of her skin and hair and quietly spoke into her ear. “Ready?”

“Yes” she said, her voice cracking again and she heard his soft chuckle before he eased the elk into a trot.

Mirkwood was a dark place and Thranduil knew Amelina required sunlight to heal. There was one place where where the sun was not blocked and would shine consistently for the entire day, and it was the perfect place to begin to teach Amelina just how much power she had. He had sent a security team out ahead of them and though he had insisted on privacy, there would be a perimeter set up to ensure Amelina’s safety.

The ride took almost an hour and by the time they arrived at their destination, every nerve in Amelina’s body was jumping from the friction of his hard body against hers. He had taken time to point out many landmarks and to teach Amelina about a few of the dangers lurking in the forest as they rode. She drank in the rich timbre of his deep voice and the way his arm protectively tightened around her every time they traversed a rocky patch or steep terrain.  

The dark forest was fascinating to her, despite the distraction of the ElvenKing’s closeness. She carefully considered all of his warnings and the information he was giving her, it was a welcome diversion from the aching need growing deep inside of her, a yearning for him she could not explain. Mirkwood was nothing like the forests she had lived in and she was filled with wonderment that the King would share his knowledge with her.

He halted the giant beast at a rocky spot where the sun had managed to break through and Amelina could smell the water below. Thranduil dismounted and held his arms out for her. She reached for him, embarrassed. It was hard for her to meet his eyes. He was an elf and a King.  She was nothing more than a fae, an inferior being not worthy of him. He was devastatingly handsome and was surrounded by elleths whose beauty matched his own. She had let herself believe he cared for her once and it had been a terrible mistake. He could never want her the way she wanted him.

Sensing her unease, Thranduil tilted her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Lina, you must never look  away, it is a sign of subservience. I want you to be free, to be in charge of your own destiny. That is why we are here.  Do you understand?” Amelina nodded reluctantly, not sure what the King was alluding too.

“Look at me Amelina,” he ordered, his tone harsher. She complied and his expression softened. “Good.”  He took her arm in his and walked her to the edge of the stony cliff and she stared down at the water crashing below them. “Take off your clothes,” he commanded. Amelina stared at him in disbelief.

“What?” she whispered, biting her bottom lip.

Her modesty and astonishment unraveled him and he had to take a moment to steel himself, wanting nothing more than to take her bottom lip between his own teeth.  He lifted his hand to her shoulder and slipped one sleeve of her dress down, then the other. Amelina instinctively lifted her arms to stop him. He caught her wrists shackling them in one hand, his imposing figure towering over her. “No Lina.” He demanded. “Trust me.” His eyes held hers, daring her to not to comply.

Reluctantly, she lowered her hands and he slipped her dress from her leaving her clad only in a translucent white shift that ended at her upper thighs. His hot gaze slid over her approvingly. “Good girl. Now close your eyes,” he said huskily. Amelina blinked twice, took a deep breath, and let her long lashes fall.

Thranduil constrained himself, his trousers tightening around his growing shaft as his eyes glided over her. Her nipples tightened and peaked, two delectable points teasing him through her gauzy shift.  He wanted her, he wanted to do so many things to her in this moment, but he had brought her here for a reason and the urgent need to help her realize what she was capable of was something he could not ignore.

“Lina,” his voice was rough and low as he turned her to face forward, his hands on her upper arms sending sparks of awareness through every nerve in her body.

“Fly,” he whispered, lifting her off her feet and tossing her like a rag doll over the steep edge of the rocky cliff.


	45. Chapter 45

 

_You can’t blame gravity for falling in love._

_—Albert Einstein_

 

 

Amelina opened her mouth and screamed, but no sound came out. Her voice was lodged deep in her throat as she tumbled toward the crashing waves below. A spray of water hit her face as she approached the rough waters and she threw her hands in front of her, squeezing her eyes shut tightly.…. and then….. nothing. She opened one eye and dared to peek. She had stopped midair and was hovering an arm’s length above the water’s surface.

Thranduil watched her, prepared to dive in and rescue her if necessary, although he knew she was an excellent swimmer. He smiled when she halted her fall just above the water, “There you go baby,” he murmured into the wind.  Picking up her discarded dress he whistled for his elk to follow him down the canyon. She would not be coming to him, she would be too angry.  He would have to go to her.

When he reached the shoreline, he found her perched on a boulder, knees tucked under her chin. “Well done Amelina, well done.”  His voice held both approval and a hint of pride. She gazed up at him surprised at his words. He strode over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. “You need to take this off Lina, your body requires the sunlight to heal. That is why I brought you here,” he urged, tugging at the strap of her shift.

She jumped to her feet defiantly and backed away. “Oh? You didn’t bring me here to throw me off a cliff? Maybe you should take your clothes off My Lord!”

His lips twitched in amusement and a wicked grin crossed his face. “As you wish My Lady,” he said with a bow before unbuttoning his shirt and pulling the sleeves out from the leather vambraces strapped to his wrists.

Amelina gawked at him, her eyes traveling over his lean, masculine form. He was statuesque in his perfection.  Every inch of him was hard and solid and she could not keep her gaze from wandering lower, over the rippled muscles of his abdomen.  She stared as he tossed the shirt aside, mesmerized by the way his biceps flexed. His hand reached for his belt buckle and she stood frozen as he unlatched it and pulled it from his waist, letting it fall to the ground beside him.

“Lina?” His voice startled her and she looked up at him. Her irises were a brilliant purple in the sunlight and the heat of embarrassment stung at her cheeks when their eyes collided. He closed the distance between them, his tall figure towering over her, grasping her arms in his hands. His touch sent shockwaves through her and her eyes began to dart around for an escape. She wanted to run and at the same time she wanted to pull him closer.

His eyes danced with amusement, and something darker. “If you are going to run from me Princess, you better run fast.” He was smirking, but his voice held a slight edge, as if he were giving her a fair warning. Her lips parted and her breasts rose as she took in a deep breath, trying to think of something to say, but he smelled of forests and sandalwood and she could not focus. His hand reached up and brushed away a wet strand of hair stuck to her cheek.

“Do you want to touch me Amelina?” his voice was smooth like velvet and the question hung in the moist air between them. Yes, yes, she thought, she wanted to touch him, she wanted to touch him so badly. She shivered.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her against him, one hand reaching under her bottom and pulling her thigh up over his hip. She squealed, clutching onto his broad shoulders as he spun her around and sat on the boulder with her straddling his lap. “It is okay for you to have desires Lina,” he coaxed, a look of tenderness crossing his aquiline features as he dragged his thumb over her bottom lip.

Her breath was coming in short pants and he watched her nipples swell and grow taught, barely concealed by the sheer, wet shift that was plastered to her skin. “Touch me Lina,” he whispered.

Her mind reeled and her hand moved of its own volition, tentatively tracing over the muscle of his upper arm and then back up again. Her fingertips brushed over his collarbone and Thranduil felt the prickling of goosebumps rising on his skin in response to her feather light touch. Her eyes followed her fingers as they began roaming, pausing at his nipple that grew hard with her touch.

Amelina felt a dizzying sensation watching her hands wander, reaching lower, over the tight muscles of his abdomen and into the dip of his navel. Thranduil closed his eyes against the sweet torment of her novice exploration, not wanting to break the spell but barely able to contain himself.  

Her fingers fluttered over his closed lids and then over his finely chiseled cheekbones. They dropped to trace the square of his jawline and then lightly brushed over his lips. Just when he thought he could bear no more, she gently pressed her lips to his and a low groan came from deep within his throat. He reached up, cupping the back of her head in his hand, deepening the kiss. His tongue slid into her mouth seeking hers and Amelina could feel the hard ridge of his erection pressing against her sex through his trousers.

A gust of wind blew through Thranduil’s long, loose hair and he knew it was her. He pulled back from her and she blushed deeply. “Lina. You command the wind.” She brought a shaky hand up to her lips and bit into a pearly, perfectly rounded fingernail , nervous and unable to catch her breath. He pulled her hand from her mouth. “Lina, you have an extraordinary gift, you can have anything you want. What do you want?”

“No! It is a curse, not a gift. I promised my Mother I would forget it.  I cannot ever remember how to bend the air, it is forbidden. It will bring death and devastation to those I love. It is an evil thing from my Father.”

“Do you know your Father? Do you know who he is?”

“No, but I was never supposed to be here.  I was a terrible accident, an error. I was not like the other faeries and my Mother hated it that I was like him. She told everyone I was a servant, not her daughter. I am not supposed to be here. I am a burden. I am bad. There is something wrong with me that makes the wind blow. I shouldn’t be here.”

“Lina," his voice hitched with emotion.  "Your Mother, is gone and you are here. That means you are supposed to be here. She was wrong. She blamed you for her own mistakes because she was weak. You were too young to see that.  You are strong Lina. You are not what she said you were. You are not what anyone says you are. You are the only one who gets to decide your worth. It is your time now and you deserve something more.  Do you want to spend the rest of your life being abused in captivity? Do you want to let those inferior to you, like Brandiwen, hurt you? Do you want to spend the rest of your life running? What do _you_ want Lina?”

A violet tinged tear trickled down her cheek and her chest rose and fell for several breaths before she looked up, meeting his eyes. “I want you.” she whispered, “All I want is you.”


	46. Chapter 46

_“He never knew a single second could be expanded into something timeless and so archaic. It shook him to his core – there were no words for it.”_

_― Dianna Hardy_

 

Thranduil could feel his heart hammering in his chest at her admission. “Lina,” he murmured, his voice pained as he pulled her lips to his. There was urgency in his kiss that had not been there before.  Grasping the edges of her shift, he lifted it over her head and she held her arms up for him. His eyes raked over her, lingering at her breasts.  She shifted and bit her bottom lip, blushing again.

“You are so beautiful my angel, so beautiful,” he murmured, cupping a breast in his hand letting his thumb drag across her tight nipple. She stiffened, taking in a sharp breath and he nuzzled into her neck biting and sucking.  He ran his hands up and down the length of her back until he felt her relax and loosen.

His hands returned to her breasts and he flicked her nipples gently, sending a visible shudder through her body. “I have waited so long for you my love, I thought I lost you,” he murmured in her ear, his large hands encompassing both breasts and plumping them.  He leaned into her chest and began tasting her.

His tongue licked first one nipple, then the other.  His mouth was hot and wet against her sensitive, swollen peaks and a soft coo drifted from her lips.  He drew a taut nipple into his mouth and suckled. She gasped, her body arching toward him. Amelina’s hands reached up and fisted his hair as he lavished her erected points, first one then the other.

Her breathing was hard and ragged and Thranduil measured her response to each touch, careful to not push her too hard. “You taste so sweet Lina,” he whispered, “pressing his lips to hers again and kissing her hard and deep. Pulling back, he lifted her chin and locked her gaze with his. “I want to taste all of you. Stand up for me angel.”

He remained seated and helped her find her footing on the boulder, lifting one of her legs over his shoulder and bracing her other with a strong arm. He ran his fingers over her plush seam, feeling the wetness seeping from her and he groaned, gently parting the lips of her sex with two fingers, revealing the pulsing reddened bud of her core. His tongue ran over its silky surface and she clutched onto his shoulders for balance. He gave her a long, languid lick and her nails dug into his skin.  

Thranduil drank in the dizzying elixir of her arousal. His tongue found her opening and he delved deep inside her. She wobbled and he steadied her, thrusting his tongue in and out, drinking her in.  He licked her again, all the way to her swollen clit and her body shook as she tiptoed.

He pulled her back down to her knees, unbuttoning his pants and slipping them past his hips. His hard erection sprang between them and he eased her over him, her legs spread wide.  His shaft penetrated her slippery folds and found her entrance like a divining rod. He pulled her hips down on him. She stopped him with a frightened gasp.

“It is okay angel, I will not hurt you.”

“It’s so much bigger than….” Her mouth parted and her eyes grew wide.

“I know angel, but it will not hurt this time, I promise. You are so wet Lina. So ready,” he said in a hoarse whisper, easing her lower.

He held her face in one hand, his eyes locked on hers as his other hand forced her down on his thickened shaft. He moved slow, letting her adjust to the feel of him as he prepared to enter her. She closed her eyes tightly and held her breath.

“Open your eyes angel, stay with me, “he coaxed. He could see the apprehension in her eyes when she obeyed. “Breathe into it Lina,” he murmured, lifting his hips and thrusting his crown through her opening.

“Oooooh” she purred softly as he guided her down on his long length, inching further and deeper inside of her, filling and stretching her.

“Good Girl,” he soothed, watching her breathing become deep and heavy, her pupils dilating. She gasped with pleasure when he hit her sensitive spot and he smiled knowing how close she was. His voice filled with concern when a tear slipped from here eye, “Lina, what’s wrong sweetheart?”

Her lips parted and she whimpered. “It’s not wrong.  It’s so… It feels so …..l want…..”

“Yes,” his voice was deep and soothing “Let go, Lina. Let go and come for me.”  Her hands unclenched from his shoulders and splayed across his chest. She was moving her own body now, sheathing and stroking him as she thrust her hips over him. He tempered his own arousal and stilled, allowing her take just what she wanted and to go at her own pace.

“Thranduil,” she breathed his name in a desperate cadence and he felt her body quiver as she tightened around his shaft. He braced her, wrapping his fingers tightly around her tiny waist as her body began to convulse.  The sounds of her pleasure mesmerized him.  Her soft moans and sighs were like musical notes that sent sparks of intense desire along every nerve in his body while she shattered around him.

When her tremors began to subside, he pulled her back down on his hard cock, tilting himself inside her, finding again the place of her ecstasy. He rocked in the sensitive space, spreading and stretching her. She cried out his name in a broken sob that sent hot flames licking through him. 

He watched the beginning throes of rapture cross her face and listened to her gasp, her fingers clawing into his chest. “Yes. Come for me again baby. Come hard,” he commanded, impaling her with his full length and anchoring her there.

She screamed his name, her entire body going rigid, her sex drawing tight around him. Tears of bliss coursed down her cheeks and she wailed, arching her back as she peaked and fell apart, her body shuddering uncontrollably.

“So beautiful, you are so beautiful like this,” he whispered as she climaxed. His lips touched her face as she finished, kissing her tears, and he held her as she came down, his heavy scepter stiffening inside her.

She slumped against him catching her breath, her fingers opening and closing. When she was breathing again he began to probe her with his thickening manhood. She came up on her knees, sinking into his rhythm and riding him. He groaned loudly and she took him in deeper, burying him to the hilt in hard and fast thrusts.

 “Oh Lina, you are so good, so sweet, so tight.” His body tensed and she could feel him jerking and throbbing inside her.  He shouted, a sound that carried over the water behind them and his shoulders quaked. Hot liquid filled her passage in spurts and then spilled between them. He fell into her, his head collapsing into her chest. He held her tightly as the last of his passion was spent, his staff twitching in the aftermath.

They rested, embraced in each other’s arms, listening to the sounds of birds and waves until they both found enough strength to pull apart.  Amelina was still trembling when he lifted her face in his hands. “Are you okay angel,” he asked tenderly.

She nodded, not yet ready to speak. He could see the lines of exhaustion on her face and he worried that he had over exerted her. He had not intended to take her here on this day, she was still recovering and weak. “Let’s get you home,” he said lifting her in his strong arms.  He placed her feet on the ground and pulled up his pants. He kissed her deeply and turned, recovering her dress.

He stopped,  grinning at her, “I prefer you undressed,” he said, his eyes surveying her thin, naked form.  She smiled and then burst into tears. He covered the ground between them quickly, understanding he had let her go too fast. “Lina, I am here angel, I am right here.”

“I’m sorry,” she cried, “I…that was…I…”

“Shhhh, it is okay angel, know, I know. I just want to get you home and rested my love. You need to eat. Let me take care of you now. Tonight I will love you and you will spend the night in my arms. Forgive me for taking you here where we cannot linger."  He held her until she calmed and then helped her pull her dress over her head.

Thranduil lifted her onto the great elk and mounted behind her. She sucked in a sharp breath as she positioned herself and he realized she was sore from his use.  He pulled her leg over him so that she was cradled comfortably in his lap and urged the beast into a trot and then into a fast, gentle lope. Amelina was sound asleep against his chest before they entered the forest.


	47. Chapter 47

“Never _attempt to win by force what can be won by deception.”_

_― Niccolò Machiavelli_

 

Amelina slept soundly through the entire ride home. Thranduil held her close to him, pausing at times to gaze at her face, peaceful and relaxed in slumber. He still found it hard to believe she was here in his arms and that she wanted him, after having been all but certain he had lost her.

Never had he been required to work to win the heart of an elleth, not even in his unrefined youth when he had been unknowledgable and unsure. But Amelina was a faerie and the wares and the power of a Kingship would never be enough to hold her heart. She was a forest creature, wild and passionate. The things she valued had little to do with wealth or station. He could not win her heart but with his own, this he knew.  He loved her in a way he had never loved another, but she still did not trust him completely. This, in the wisdom of his age, he could see clearly.

He had won her submission this day. She had given herself freely to him, wantonly. Her raw admission that she wanted him, her intense emotions when he had taken her was unexpected. She had allowed herself to be vulnerable and exposed to him. Yet he sensed there was a piece of her she was still holding back from him. He vowed silently, as he watched her sleep, that he would have her completely. He would win her trust and bind her to him for eternity.  

His security forces followed on the elk’s hooves as he passed through the gates. He dismounted with the sleeping faerie in his arms, shushing her when she stirred. He wanted her to rest and recover.  The need to have her again was already strong as he breathed in the faint scent of lilacs and the heady scent of their combined love making. He wanted her again, but the things he intended to do to her would take their toll. He needed her to regain her strength.

A servant rushed to him as he entered the halls, it was obvious a commotion was underway. Thranduil shook his head, whatever it was it could wait until he got Amelina settled. The servant opened his mouth as if to object, but then thought better of, clamping his mouth shut and staring at the floor.

Thranduil went directly to his bed chamber and laid Amelina in his bed. The massive four poster frame diminished her and made her look even smaller than she was, almost childlike. A fierce wave of protectiveness swelled inside of him as he pulled a blanket from the end of the bed and covered his sleeping beauty.

He would like to have stayed there and watch her rest.  Her long eyelashes fanned over her cheeks and her bowed lips were slightly parted as her breasts rose and fell lightly with each breath. She was a vision. He sighed. Something was happening that required his presence. He reluctantly kissed her cheek and walked quietly from the room, placing a guard at her door to watch over her in his absence.

“What is it?” Thranduil asked, his tone cursory.

“My Lord, it is the Lady Brandiwen. She tried to kill herself. Poison my Lord, it is not good.”  Thranduil felt the walls of the hall closing in around him with almost an audible whoosh. He was transported back to another time, a memory he had struggled to lock in the past. No, he thought.  No, not again.

Rushing down the hall he turned the corner to the corridor that led to Brandiwen’s room. The servant had a difficult time keeping up with him.  Brandiwen lay on the bed, her pale arms crossed over her abdomen, her eyes closed. She looked as if she were lying in repose, as if she was already dead. Guilt burned in his chest. This was his fault.

He had promised her nothing but he knew she had expected him to pledge himself to her. He had led her to believe he had chosen her and he had, when he believed Amelina was gone.  She was so young, too young to die. Her Mother sat by her side, her hand on Brandiwen’s arm sobbing. How could he have missed this? How could he have not seen how badly Brandiwen had been hurt by his affair with the faerie?

He had allowed himself to be too distracted by Amelina and had barely given Brandiwen,one of his own, a second thought. Elladan kneeled at her head, his eyes closed, hands on her temples, obviously trying to help. Brandiwen remained unresponsive to his attempts, stiff and immovable.

Brandiwen’s Father stepped from the shadows of a corner in the room, briefly placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder before stepping into the hallway. Thranduil followed. With proper decorum, Lord Anarcia bowed his head to the King. He was tall with long silver hair, not as tall as Thranduil and his hair did not glisten quite as brightly as the Kings, but he was a most handsome elf nonetheless.

“This is the work of that faerie.  My daughter would never take her own life. She must have been under a spell!” Thranduil took in a deep, sharp breath, realizing these were the words of a distraught Father.  He was a Father too, he understood this elf’s grief.

“Surely you do not believe in such superstitions,” he replied, although not unkindly.

“She has cursed us! The Orc attacks have been vicious since she arrived here! Forgive my King, but are you so enchanted by her that you cannot see?”

“I am sorry for what has happened to Brandiwen.  It is my fault, not the fae’s. She thought she would be Queen and I could not give her that. Lord Elrond’s son was quite taken with her and I had hoped they would….She will have my best healers day and night. Let us not lose hope.  She may yet recover.”

“My Lord Thranduil, I found her dancing in the moonlight with Elladan last night, she was taken with him as well. This was a spell placed on her by that creature!  You must purge Mirkwood of her evil before it is too late and we are all doomed. If you execute her for her sorcery, Brandiwen may survive this curse.”

“No! There will be no more death. We have seen enough blood spilled. No more!” Thranduil turned on his heel, leaving Brandiwen’s irate Father standing alone in the hallway.  The King went down a private corridor and slipped out to a private terrace.

His shoulders slumped and he hung his head, his silver hair cascading over his face.  He had failed. He had taken advantage of Brandiwen.  She was fragile, so rigid and proper. It must have come as a severe blow to learn the King she thought would be hers had chosen a faerie, a creature she despised, above her.

Brandiwen had been sheltered and assured of her beauty and desirability her entire life.  She was innocent, untouched and not well versed in matters of the heart. What he had done to her in his carelessness was unforgivable. He, of all elves should have known this could happen.

Pain burned in chest. He was a fool.  He had held Legolas’ Mother, helplessly, as she succumbed to the poison of a dark arrow. He had loved her, but could not reach her in time. She had died saving their son.  

He had seen Tauriel’s Mother decline, unable to save her from the torment she inflicted upon herself, torment he no doubt had contributed to. He had believed her when she said she could live with the truth, but then she had seduced him during her fertile time in hopes of making him beholden to her. Even after he agreed to stay with her, the truth that he did not love her was too much for her to bear. She had sacrificed herself in battle, far too willingly. The weight of his guilt hung heavily upon his shoulders.

He would need to draw on all of his resources to save Brandiwen and to be there for her when she recovered, if she recovered. She was his responsibility. He could not embrace his own happiness in the midst of her tragedy. He owed her and her parents at least that much. 

He would have to send Amelina away. Her presence here was a twist of the knife for Brandiwen’s loved ones. He could not keep Amelina safe here now, she was an easy scapegoat to blame for Brandiwen's weakness. The door to the terrace opened and Elladan stepped out to stand by the King. “I am sorry My Lord. When I left her last she was happy, I had no idea.” Thranduil lifted his head and nodded.

“That she has survived this long is a good sign, there is still a chance she may recover. Her life force is strong for an elleth who wished to die, I can feel it in her veins,” Elladan said, looking as perplexed as he did wounded.

Thranduil took in a deep breath. “Let us hope, let us hope,” he said turning to go back inside. He stopped and turned to the younger elf, “I will be sending Amelina to Lorien.”

“Yes, I would fear for her safety here. Brandiwen’s attempt at suicide does not make sense to me, but I do not believe the fae had anything to with it. I have tried to quell the insane accusations against her but Brandiwen’s Father is very insistent.“

Thranduil studied the Prince for a moment before nodding again and leaving the terrace. He was surprised when he entered the main halls to see Cassiopeia standing before him. “My Lord” she said, bowing deeply.


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am certain I have not proofed this well, but I am a little blurry and just happy to have finished this chapter. I will go over it again this morning, but I was determined to post a chapter tonight. I had an injury, surgery and then some painful complications and I apologize for my long absence, but I am determined to finish this work and now that I am on the mend, hopefully I will be back to normal updates soon.

“Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it.”   
― [J.K. Rowling](http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1077326.J_K_Rowling)

 

Cassiopeia was the elf Thranduil least wished to see at this hour and he cursed under his breath as she approached, her long, pale blue silken gown making a hushed whisper against the stone as she crossed the floor to him. The bodice was cut deeply in the neckline, below her breasts, making a sharp v shape that almost reached her waistline. It was unusual attire for an elleth. A golden wire wrapped her waist with tiny gilded leaves that appeared as if they were real and had been dipped in gold. Thranduil could not help but stare at her exotic appearance even though it prompted a bitter acid to rise in his throat.

“I am sorry to hear of Brandiwen’s misfortune My Lord,” she said curtseying slightly but not lowering her eyes from his. A heavy whiff of narcissus caught in the air with her movement. She had over used her perfume, he thought to himself in distaste. He did not reply to her, he simply glowered at her for a long moment.

“Why are you here?” he asked, his voice cutting through the air like steel.

“I have come from Lorien, My Lord. News has reached us that the fae has been rescued and that she was returned to you.”

“And?” Thranduil’s tone was annoyed.

“And, well, I was thrilled to hear she has been found and I came to see how she is. She and I became quite close while she was recovering. I was heartbroken when she chose to leave us.”

Thranduil’s eyes narrowed. Cassie was a confident elleth, he knew her well and was certain her motives had nothing to do with a genuine concern for Amelina.  She was fishing, fishing for information on the faerie. Refusing to give her anything, he nodded curtly and walked past her. He heard an astonished gasp, no doubt she saw his departure as rude. So be it. Whatever she was up to, he had no time and no heart for it now.

A chill swept through him as he walked down the stone corridor toward his room. In the morning he would be saying goodbye to his faerie. The grief he felt was overpowering and he staggered, almost losing his footing. He could not keep her safe here, safe from his own people.  He could not keep her safe from himself. He was no good for her, he had not been good for any female.

If Brandiwen died, they would kill Amelina. If Brandiwen survived, he would be expected to do his duty and pledge himself to the elleth.  He had paraded Brandiwen around his Kingdom. Everyone assumed she would be the future Queen of Mirkwood and her attempt at suicide would send shockwaves through the ranks. His duties as King were paramount and his people would never accept the fae now, Brandiwen’s Father would see to that. His love for Amelina would only bring her pain and death.

He found her nestled in his big bed, still sleeping soundly. He reached out a hand, lightly brushing her cheek. He could not help himself.  He pulled off his boots and stripped out of his clothing, easing himself into the bed next to her, pulling her sluggish, petite form into him. She was warm, so warm. He held her closely, too close.

She responded to his touch. Her eyes fluttered but did not open and a soft sigh came from her gently parted lips. Her hands sleepily reached to touch his chest and her hips instinctively rocked forward.

“Lina,” he breathed. “My love.” His lips found hers, gentle and chaste. He was preparing to leave her. This was to be goodbye. He would not allow her to die because of him. Nobody else would die because of him, not even Brandiwen.  He could not give in to the overpowering emotions he was feeling, he just wanted to hold her. But the Celestial Lords be damned, she was writhing against him, still half asleep, yet demanding a response.

He tried to stop, his intentions were only to hold her for one more night, but her fingers were moving over him, soft as butterfly wings. Her lips were opening against his, even in her sleepiness.

When her mouth opened fully to him, his resistance faltered and his tongue danced over lips before delving into her mouth.  When she moaned, he lost all sense of reality.  For this moment there was only her, nothing else and his large body shuddered against her small form.

His fingers found her breasts and he flicked her nipples that peaked under his touch.  Her breathing grew short in response to his administrations and she whispered his name.  His breath hitched in his throat. This was not supposed to be happening. He had only needed to hold her one last time. An agonized groan formed deep in his throat. “Lina, Lina,” he rasped, his voice cracking under the bitter weight of the knowledge he had to let her go.

She pressed her body up against his, warm and soft, welcoming him. Her hands reached to his head and her fingers tangled in his hair. “Thranduil,” she called as a strange, spellbound sensation overcame him. 

Amelina awoke with the increasing thrum of desire ricocheting through her and an urgent sense that something was amiss.  Something had changed and she could feel it deep in her bones. Her eyes flew open and she shot up in the bed, pushing her lover away.

She blinked, her eyes quickly adjusting in the darkness, honing in on his. She was a fae, she could see him clearly, even in the dark.  “What is it?” she asked, still breathless and aroused. Her connection to him had grown in strength. He sat up and faced her, but his head lowered slightly and he closed his eyes, clearly pained. 

“Amelina, you have to leave, you are not safe here.” She stared at him, aghast and confused.

“Will you come with me?” she asked, her voice laced with dread.

“I…I cannot. I must stay here with Brandiwen.”

Amelina felt an icy chill racing through her as disbelief clouded her mind. “What do you mean? Why?”

“She has been poisoned, by her own hand, but there are those who believe she is not to blame. She was to be mine Lina, after you left me. It is my fault she is in this condition, I must make it right. She belongs to my people, to me. She was my responsibility and I failed her.”

The implications of his words and his grief were unmistakable. Brandiwen was an elf, she was a faerie. Thranduil was sending her away so that he could be with Brandiwen, his true love.  Amelina blinked in disbelief, a searing pain clutching her heart. She had been wrong to believe he loved her. Before a tear could escape her eyes, a blessed sense of numbness overtook her.

“Amelina, Brandiwen is not strong like you. She is dying. Everyone I care for dies.”

“You wish to keep me in Lorien as your mistress?”  Her voice was soft and flat.

“It is not like that Lina. You are my heart, but I cannot allow for you to be hurt. You have never been my mistress. I love you.”

“But you want to send me away so that you can be with Brandiwen?”

“I do not want to send you away, but I must.  My duty lies here.”

Amelina pulled away and turned her back to him. She wanted to cry but no tears would come. The blood coursing through her veins felt thick, her body felt hard. This was loss, a feeling she was all too familiar with.

“Leave me.”

The tone of her voice stung him. It was cold and unyielding. Her pain was palpable like an invisible wall between them. She was a survivor, if he let her go now, she would have a chance. Every cell in his body begged to reach out to her and he felt as if he himself were dying.

It was too much to be here next to her. He lifted himself from the bed and dressed, walking from the room silently. As he entered the dim light of hallway, he steeled himself, placing a tight amour over the crushing pain he felt. Taking a deep breath, he pulled back his shoulders, held his head high and locked his feelings in a deep dungeon within his mind.

With sure steps, he walked back to the room where Brandiwen lay, her Mother still keeping vigil by her side. He was not pleased to see Cassiopeia sneaking outside the door, a look of determination etched on her face as she hovered in the hallway.  She jumped when he stepped up behind her, his hot breath against her cheek.  “Why do you lurk in the shadows Cassie? What business do you have here?”

She turned to stare up at is towering form, her voice momentarily caught in her throat. “I ……I was looking for you My Lord,” she stammered, a pink hue creeping across her cheeks.


End file.
